The Contract
by Lady Miya
Summary: Greetings Wife; Imagine my surprise when I found out I was married. I am convinced you all have some clever plan behind it. However, make no mistake, I will not let myself be played. - Voldemort. Rated M for a reason. Read warnings.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! New story, new warnings! Please read the warnings before you continue with the story!

1. I am ignoring the events of HBP and DH. No Horocruxes.

2. Like always in my fics, there will be a lot of sex and torture. Don't like? Don't read!

3. This is a Hermione/Voldemort-shipping, but there will be some other parings as well (like, SS/OFC, RL/?, HP/GW...) but I won't write much about them.

4. This is a DARK fic. There are always someone who is unhappy. If you like fluff, this is not a story for you!

I am only playing with JK Rowlings wonderful world, I don't make any money of this!

Lady Miya

Thank you BloodyBrilliantRuthie for betaing this story! And thank you Nerys for encouraging me to continue with it!

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Chapter 1

It had all been Cornelius Fudge's idea. So, of course, it was a horrible. Unfortunately, by the time Dumbledore found out, it was already too late.

xxx

Hermione Granger was sitting in the library. She liked the library, not because she liked to study, but because she liked the atmosphere. It was always quiet. Stress didn't seem to exist in the old library of Hogwarts. Alas, Hermione used the library as a gateway to calmness, which she needed now, as she was in the middle of her N.E.W.T. exams. She only had three more exams to sit through, and she would be free for a whole week before the graduation party. Like the rest of her class, she looked forward to it. A lot had happened during her time at Hogwarts, and she felt like she needed a rest.

Three years ago, the feared dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, had returned. Many had believed he was dead, but he only lost his body. Hermione's best friend, Harry Potter, had been there the day he regained human form. The world had just grown darker ever since.

Two years ago, Hermione's parents had disappeared and she had obviously been very upset and wanted to be alone in her grief. She thought that her friends had enough to worry about as it was. So, she found refuge in the library, like so many times before, and tried to study away her grief.

Last year, her other best friend, Ron Weasley, was killed. Since then, she had been eager to fight in the war. It happened at the end of her sixth year. She and her two best friends had been on their way home from Hogsmeade, when Lord Voldemort and ten of his Death Eaters ambushed them. Harry, he still didn't know how it happened, cast the Killing Curse at Voldemort and… hit him. Voldemort died, or rather, his body died. Smoke rose from the body, an apparition of the Dark Lord, and ordered his Death Eaters to kill them.

The Death Eaters had been confused and Harry, Hermione and Ron managed to escape. Or, so they had thought. Bellatrix Lestrange, one of Voldemort's top minions cast an Avada Kedavra at them and it hit Ron in the back. Anger, beyond anything she had ever felt before, took hold of her. She went berserk and started to cast hexes around her, even the three Unforgivable Curses. Her assault gave Dumbledore and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix time to take care of the rest of the Death Eaters.

Everyone thought Voldemort was gone for good after that. They had even started celebrate. Until Harry started to scream because his scar began to hurt. The Dark Lord managed to survive.

No one knew where he was, what he looked liked, or what kind of powers he had. Everyone was very careful not to talk to strangers. Lord Voldemort could be anyone.

Hermione sighed as she tried to massage the stiffness out from her shoulders. She was working on a very tricky calculation in Arithmancy and had been sitting in the same spot since dinner. The Arithmancy exam was first thing the coming morning. It was her favourite subject and she hoped to get the highest scores. Not that anyone thought she wouldn't get it; she had been feeding herself with knowledge since the beginning of this year; even more so than she had done the years before. Her philosophy was; knowledge is power. After Harry found out Voldemort was still alive, Hermione made finding a way to kill him her mission.

Little did she know how jeopardized her mission would become.

xxx

"She is just a girl!" Dumbledore bellowed.

The Minster of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, fidgeted. He was nervous. He had never seen Dumbledore this furious before. He just arrived at the Ministry and found a very angry Dumbledore sitting in one of his royal blue armchairs. Carefully, Fudge sat down behind his pompous desk, made of the finest oak.

"I have already signed the Contract for both of them, Albus. There is nothing you can do."

"Don't you understand that you have doomed the poor girl to death?" Dumbledore screamed. He had always seen the protection of his students as his sacred mission. Now, he failed, thanks to this incompetent fool.

"Now, now Albus, don't overreact," Fudge mumbled, the sweat building up on his back. "We have, of course, made sure he is obligated to protect her against physical harm, particularly from himself. She, on the other hand…" Fudge smiled, an evil smile, as one who is hiding something.

"What makes you so certain that he can't resist the power of the Contract? He has managed to get back from death twice!"

Fudge cleared his throat. "No one has ever managed to get pass the Contract. It was signed in their blood."

"That you stole!" Dumbledore's normally calm and twinkling blue eyes were murderous.

Fudge shifted in his seat. "It doesn't matter, a blood Contract it unbreakable."

Dumbledore clenched his fist. "You will be killed for this, Cornelius, don't you realise that?"

"I have made a safe-house for myself and my wife," Fudge said in an important tone so Dumbledore would understand that he had everything under control.

"May I see the Contract?" Dumbledore asked after a moment of thought.

"Of course," Fudge gave him a copy. "As you know, the real Contract is in safe-keeping here at the Ministry. Both parties have already been sent a copy."

Dumbledore read it with a frown. "It says here that they are expected to consummate their marriage within a week?"

"Yes. If they don't, the Contract is magically enhanced with the Endless Pain curse for those who do not adhere to all of the Contracts clauses. They will experience endless pain, that will eventually kill them," Fudge seemed to be extremely pleased.

"She is innocent," Dumbledore hissed.

"Ah, but she did sign up for the Auror test and so far, she has scored the highest marks on all her exams. She's smart, bright, and interested in law enforcement. I'm certain she will be able to kill him."

Dumbledore was silent for a while. "I think it was a dark day when you underestimated Lord Voldemort."

xxx

The moment Hermione finished her last exam she was so relieved that she couldn't help but cheer along with the rest of her class. Harry actually smiled at her. He didn't do it a lot, not since Ron died.

"Care for a trip to Hagrid's?" Harry asked her.

Hermione was about to accept when she heard someone call her name. She turned around and saw Dumbledore coming at them from the stairs.

"Miss Granger," he said in a serious tone. "I must speak with you at once."

Hermione and Harry exchanged a worried look.

"What is it, headmaster?" Harry asked.

"I'm sorry, Mr Potter, but I have to speak with Miss Granger alone," Dumbledore said soberly.

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione said with a smile. "I will catch up with you at Hagrid's later."

Harry nodded, and with a worried look on his face he left them. Dumbledore made a gesture for her to follow him to his office. Hermione had been there a couple of times before. After the death of Ron, when her parents went missing, and the time Harry was injured. She had no happy memories about that room, and she had the feeling she wasn't about to get any now.

"Please, have a seat," Dumbledore said and pointed to one of the comfortable-looking armchairs next to his desk. Hermione sat down. "I have a confession to make, Miss Granger. Two days ago you received two letters. I took them and kept them from you. I thought it would be best if you managed to sit your exams without any extra worries."

Hermione frowned when Dumbledore handed her a brown envelope with the Ministry's logo on it. Her eyes widened when she began to read it the letter within it.

Marriage Contract between Tom M Riddle and Hermione J Granger.

Hermione gasped. "Is… is this some kind of joke, Headmaster?"

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore said. "Please continue."

On the eighth of June, Tom M Riddle and Hermione J Granger were declared husband and wife by Minister Cornelius Fudge. The following conventions are to be followed.

Hermione's eyes widened as she read the conventions. The marriage had to be consummated within a week of their marriage (which meant they only had five days left to consummate it). Mr Riddle was obligated to protect her against anyone who intended to harm her, including himself. He was also obligated to take care of her and keep her healthy. They were to share all their possessions and live together. If they broke any of the rules, they would go through Endless Pain. She had read about the Endless Pain curse, and it often meant that the victim felt some kind of headache.

"So…," Hermione said in a voice much higher than her normal one. "I'm married. Just like that."

"So it would appear," Dumbledore said carefully.

"To Voldemort," Hermione continued, clenching her fist around the contract. "And… I'm expected to live with him and… consummate our marriage."

"Miss Granger…" Dumbledore said in a tired voice. "If there was anything I could do…"

Hermione got up from the chair and started to pace. She was biting her lip like she usually did when she was trying to work something out. "What has my… husband said about this?"

"I believe that will be known through the other letter," Dumbledore said cautiously and handed her another brown envelope, free of any logo.

Hermione ripped it open.

Greetings Wife

Imagine my surprise when I found out I was married. I am convinced you all have some clever plan behind it. However, make no mistake, I will not let myself be played. I will wait for you every night for a week at the cemetery of Little Hangelton. Come alone. My Death Eaters will stay on guard and they will not hesitate to kill anyone, save you.

I'm convinced that you, like I, have no interest in becoming the victim of Endless Pain.

Your Husband

Hermione's knees gave way and she sank down to the floor. She reread the letter again... and again. Dumbledore walked behind her and read the letter over her shoulder.

"Why me?" she finally asked.

"Fudge thought you were the most suited person for the job. He had gone through your record and found out that you applied for a job as an Auror. I imagine he thought this would be your first assignment," Dumbledore said with a snort.

"I see…," Hermione mumbled. "What exactly is my job?"

"To kill him. As you may have noticed while reading the Contract, there is nothing in there that stops you from hurting him."

"Oh…"

Hermione got up from the floor. She was in shock. It was not every day you found out that you where married to the most feared man alive. What should she do? Go to him, a part of her mind thought. The other part told her to run. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Madam Pomfrey had taught her this technique if a situation seemed to get out of hand. She had been crying over Ron when she taught her that.

Ron… She had loved him. She had loved him as a friend, but she wouldn't have rejected him if he wanted to be more than friends. But, he never asked. They had been so busy with everything else and now it was too late. All she could do now was avenge him. If she were married to Voldemort, she would be in an excellent position to do so. Yes. That was nice and logical. She didn't have to care about the fact that she had to go to him alone, live with him… sleep with him. No. She would be focusing on revenge.

"I'll do it," Hermione whispered, more to herself than to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore sighed and helped her to sit down in the armchair again. "I knew you would. You are a brave girl, Miss Granger. If anyone can do it, it's you."

He left her alone for a moment and went to another room. When he returned, he held a necklace in his hands.

"I want you to have this."

Hermione looked at the beautiful piece of jewellery. It wasn't much, just a small stone that seemed to shimmer in different colours. It sat in the middle of a small silver pentagram.

"What is it?" Hermione asked and touched the small necklace. She felt a shiver go through her fingers.

"Among other things, it is supposed to give calm to its bearer. I think you may need it."

Hermione nodded and Dumbledore helped her to put it around her neck. When he was done, he put a hiding-spell on it so it wouldn't be seen.

"Just so no one would be tempted to steal it," he said when he saw her questioning look.

Hermione could still feel it around her neck even though she couldn't see it. She thanked him again. "I think I will have to speak to Harry now."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "When will you leave?"

"Tonight," Hermione said, she already felt calmer. "Or else I will just worry myself to death."

She left the office and slowly made her way through the castle. She thought about what she would say to Harry. He would be furious when he found out. And scared. Few would have believe it, but when Voldemort didn't die during the duel, Harry had been scared beyond belief. Since then, he had questioned his own abilities. Everyone thought he was the great Saviour, but Harry told her many times that he didn't believe he was the right man. Perhaps she could help him now. When she moved in with Voldemort she would be able to find out more about him, and then she could pass information along to Harry.

"Harry!" she said when she came down to Hagrid's hut. He and Hagrid were sitting outside, drinking lemonade. Hagrid's big dog, Fang, was lying near them, happily spreading saliva over the grass.

Harry got up when he saw her. "What did Dumbledore want?"

"I… apparently, I'm married," she blurred out. "To Voldemort."

Harry stared at her like she was crazy and Hermione told him the whole story about Fudge and the Contract. Like she expected, Harry hadn't taken it well.

"They can't do that!" Harry yelled.

"Please, Harry, keep your voice down," Hermione begged. Hagrid was staring at her with a mixture of horror and pity. Hermione was grateful he didn't start to yell too. "He will not be able to harm me, and he will have to protect me against his Death Eaters. I will be able to find out a lot about him and then I will tell you about it!"

Harry shook his head. "Voldemort would never fall for it. He will find a way to kill you!"

Hermione took her friends hands. She still felt strangely calm, but a bit sad by Harry's outburst. She didn't want to worry him. "Please, Harry. I don't have a choice. If I don't go to him, I'll have to endure Endless Pain."

Harry held her hands tightly. "I don't want to lose you too."

"You won't," Hermione promised. She hoped she was right.


	2. Chapter 2

Don't you just love Tuesdays? Mondays are just horrible and Wednesdays are so tiresome. But Tuesdays are just... perfect! Or perhaps it's just the candy speaking! Ah, anyway, I hope you like the second chapter of the Contract! I love to hear your comments on it!

Miya

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Chapter 2

Trying hard not to tremble, Hermione made her way toward the gates of Hogwarts. She packed all her necessary items in her trunk and shrunk it to fit into her pocket. She didn't take the things she really valued. If something went wrong, and with Voldemort for a husband something was bound to go wrong, she didn't want Voldemort to have them. Harry had promised to take good care of her things until she returned. It was just small stuff, an album with pictures of her parents, her old teddy bear (she stopped sleeping with it ten years ago, but it made her feel safe to know that she had it within reach), some of her grandmother's jewellery and most of her books. The only things she bought with her were clothes, weapons and her less valuable books. Not that she thought Voldemort would let her keep the weapons, but she'd rather come prepared than not. She could fight with knives. Remus Lupin had taught her how last summer, and Hermione had kept practising the simple movements in her spare time. Not that she would have any chance against a real master (which Kingsley Shackleblot had proven after a quick fight), but if she caught someone by surprise, she stood a chance.

After going over the knife movements and the most effective spells in her head, she felt ready to Apparate. She closed her eyes and thought about the place Dumbledore showed her on a map. She felt the sensation of moving fast through space and when she opened her eyes, she was standing on a deserted road near a small town. Her heart beat rapidly when she started to walk toward the graveyard. It was dark, but she followed the road and soon she saw the first gravestones. The cemetery appeared to be empty, but when she was standing in the middle of it, she heard movements behind her. She turned around and saw none other than Lucius Malfoy coming toward her. He had a mocking smile on his aristocratic face.

"Well, well, isn't it the new missus? Are you alone?" the blond wizard asked.

Hermione couldn't make a sound. Her throat felt like a desert. She just nodded.

"Good. Your husband couldn't be here today, but he gave me orders to bring you to his temporary residence." Malfoy stepped toward her. Hermione tried not to flinch when he gripped her arm. He smiled a nasty smile before he Apparated them away.

When Hermione opened her eyes, she found herself inside a small fire lit room almost devoid of decoration. The walls were grey in colour and there were no windows. Only a small table which seemed to be very unsteady was standing in the middle of the room.

"Please put all your belongings on the table," Malfoy demanded, "and your wand."

Hesitating, Hermione put her trunk on the table. Other than that, she only had the clothes she was wearing and the necklace that Dumbledore gave her. Leaving her things made her weary. It didn't make her any calmer that she had to leave her wand there too. She tried to tell herself that Voldemort had to protect her… Or was he just obligated to protect her _after_ they consummated their marriage? She shuddered.

Malfoy transformed the trunk to its normal size and opened it.

"Weapons?" Malfoy seemed surprised. "We all assumed you would try to kill the Dark Lord but… isn't this a little too obvious?"

Hermione found her voice. "I… Those are just for practising. I'm not very good."

"I see…" Malfoy turned around and eyed her more carefully. "Take off your robe."

"W-what?"

"Now."

Hermione opened her robe and threw it over her trunk. She wore blue jeans and a simple white t-shirt underneath. Malfoy's lips curled when he saw her Muggle clothing. He bent down and put a hand on her ankle. Hermione made a grimace when he found the hidden knife. She hadn't really planned to use it, but she always hid a knife there since the previous summer. Lupin had told her that one could never be prepared enough.

"I will have to ask you to take off the rest of your clothes as well," Malfoy said with a smirk.

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes.

Malfoy snorted. "I have no desire to take advantage of you, Mudblood."

Hermione bit her lip and with quick movements, she took off her pants and her t-shirt. She would _not_take off her underwear. Thankfully, Malfoy didn't ask her too either. He just took the knife she had hidden strapped to her thigh and the other at the small of her back, put them in the trunk and shrank it again.

"I will take these to your husband's room and he will decide what to do with them. You'll wait here and he will get you when he is ready." With those words, Malfoy took her trunk and left. He left her robe, which she gratefully put on again.

She started to pace in the small room. What should she do now? Malfoy had taken everything, including her wand. Not that she really had expected to keep it. Like Malfoy had said, the plan was quite obvious. She wouldn't have let anyone keep their wand if she had known they were sent to kill her. It was a good thing Voldemort wasn't allowed to harm her.

She didn't hear anyone enter, but suddenly she felt a presence behind her. She turned around, prepared to fight. Someone grabbed her by her wrists before she was able to strike. Her eyes widened when she realised who the person was. He didn't look like he had a year ago, but there was no doubt it was him. He was still tall and thin with unnaturally white skin and red eyes. But, he looked more human than snakelike. His face wasn't flat. He had a nose, high cheekbones and beautiful black eyebrows. His hair was also black, but it looked messy and wild. He was still frightening, even if he didn't look exactly like a monster.

"Hermione Jane Granger, I presume?" he asked in a slow hoarse voice. Hermione wondered if he was sick or something, the voice didn't sound natural.

"Yes," she managed to answer.

He nodded as he slowly let his eyes wander over her face and body. "You are young. Eighteen?"

"Nineteen," she corrected him. "I will be twenty in September."

He nodded again. Hermione noticed he had dark shadows underneath his eyes. Didn't he ever sleep?

Voldemort seemed to be inside her mind, because he smiled. "No, I can seldom find the time for it."

Hermione's eyes widened. She had learned Occlumency, and even Dumbledore had said she did well. But, she hadn't even felt Voldemort enter her mind!

"I am not… in your mind," he said slowly. "Your thoughts are written all over your face."

Hermione blushed. He tilted his head and watched her with a curious stare. "I don't think you planned this."

She shook her head. "I just found out earlier today."

"And still you know what's expected of you? I wonder… will you be able to do it?"

Hermione frowned. "Do what, exactly?"

Voldemort smiled as if she had answered him. She looked puzzled. She hadn't expected him to be… well, civilised.

"Forgive me," he said. "It's late. I'm sure you must be tired."

She nodded slowly. Why didn't he try to do anything? Just because he wasn't allowed to physically harm her, didn't mean he couldn't hurt her in some other way.

He was still holding her wrist. "Come with me, girl." He opened the door with his wand and led her trough a long dark corridor. She had no idea where they were, but she guessed they where still in the United Kingdom, as it was still dark outside.

As they walked, Hermione concentrated on the feel of his hand as he held onto her wrist. She was cold, but he was colder. Was he as nervous as she, or just cold? Probably just cold. He didn't seem to have any fat on his body.

After they passed several doors, he led her through one at the end of the long dark hall. "This is my room at the moment. I don't think I will move this year…"

He lit a fireplace with his wand and Hermione got a good look at the room. It was very modestly decorated with only a bed, a wardrobe and a desk. The walls had the same gray colour as the small room she initially entered, but at least the bedclothes had colour, they were green. The furniture was made of a robust dark wood that Hermione couldn't identify.

"There is a bathroom through there," Voldemort said and pointed to the door next to the desk. "You won't get your trunk until I have had the time to go through it, but if you need anything from it, let me know."

"My wand?" she asked.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Surely you don't expect me to give you a weapon, do you?"

She sighed and shook her head.

"My men are working on a way to destroy, or at least change, the Contract," he said in the same calm, hoarse voice. "I'm not very fond of it."

Hermione felt herself pale. "W-what are you planning to do?"

He watched her with a half smile. "You'll see what I have done tomorrow. Then, we will talk about what I shall do. Now, we shall sleep. I have made a sleeping potion for you. I don't wish to be strangled in my sleep."

He went to the desk and gave her a goblet. She looked suspiciously at it.

"Relax," he said. "I'm can't harm you. It's just a sleeping potion."

Not knowing what else to do, she took the goblet and swallowed the contents. She was knocked out cold moments later.

When she woke up again, she found herself lying in the bed in just her underwear. The sun shone through the window and lit up the room. It seemed to be a beautiful day. She turned around, but couldn't see her husband anywhere. The bed smelled of him. She had noticed it the day before, he smelled of wood and wet dirt. It was not a pleasant scent, but it wasn't bad either. She sat up and stretched. Her back ached a bit from lying down.

She felt much calmer now than she did yesterday. Dumbledore's necklace must have taken full effect. But how could she feel so peaceful when she was married to Voldemort? She decided it was best to just be grateful, and she went to the bathroom. It wasn't big, but it had all the necessary facilities. She did her business and found some clean robes on a shelf next to the sink. When she returned to the bedroom, she saw a plate of food next to a newspaper. She wondered if he had been here, or if he had sent someone else. Her stomach decided that it didn't matter, she was hungry.

She ate some toast and fried eggs before she even opened the newspaper. It was the Daily Prophet and when she saw the headline, she understood what Voldemort had been talking about. Cornelius Fudge was dead and someone had broken into a storeroom of wedding contracts. She didn't have be a Know-It-All to know who was behind it.

"He was always very pathetic."

She turned around and saw Voldemort lying on the bed. How he managed to get in without her noticing, she didn't know. He seemed healthier today. He had obviously taken a shower and he didn't look so tired. His voice was softer too.

"You killed him," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"No, I let Dolohov kill him. However, not before I convinced him to tell me the location of the Contract. It didn't take much. Fudge had always been afraid of pain."

Hermione sighed. "Did you change the Contract?"

A shadow of displeasure flew over Voldemort's face. "Lucky for you, no. However, I have added a couple of items I felt were of the utmost importance."

Hermione got cold when Voldemort rose from the bed and pulled out a scroll from his robes. He unrolled it and cleared his throat. "'_Hermione J Granger will not cause physical harm to her husband'. She will obey her husband's wishes, to the best of her ability._' Doesn't this sound much better?"

Hermione sighed. "I guess this means that I won't be able to kill you."

He smiled. "No you won't. I, on the other hand, suddenly have a new recourse. Which I will use any way I can, don't doubt it."

"You still can't harm me," she said as calmly as she could.

"Perhaps not…" He stepped closer to her. She stepped backwards. He smiled and with two steps, he stood only inches away from her. "It just occurred to me that we know nothing about each other."

He was a head taller than her, so she had to bend her head upwards to look at him. She could feel his breath against her face. She trembled. He was very… intense. She still didn't know what to think of him. Obviously, he was still a murdering bastard, but he at least had behaved civilised since she arrived.

"I have nothing important to do at the moment," he continued. "Therefore, I could grant you some hours of my precious time."

She also knew he was arrogant. Well, she guessed you didn't become the Dark Lord by being modest.

"Why do you want to get to know me?" she asked.

"Well, it's not every day you find yourself married to Harry Potter's best friend. I have always been curious," he took a step back and sat down in the chair next to the desk. Hermione felt like she could breathe again. She sat down on the desk.

"I… I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I just graduated… or… I haven't graduated yet, but I took my final exam yesterday. Fudge was impressed by my results and he thought I could kill you."

He looked amused. "Indeed… Sorry I ruined his plan." Of course, he didn't seem sorry at all. "But, what shall I do with you now?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I… I don't know… I don't really want to help you."

"Oh, I can obligate it from you if it comes to that. I don't really care if people want to help me or not, I just thought that you, as my wife, could be special."

"Special how?" she asked suspiciously.

He smiled. "As the Dark Lord, I seldom have the time for female company. However, I am quite human and I do have a sex drive."

Hermione paled. He chuckled. "Don't worry, I can't injury you. I'll teach you what I like."

"So…," Hermione said slowly. "You'll just use me as… as Bed Company?"

"Oh, no, that would be a waste of talent. I have heard about your academic achievements in school, and I expect you to help me with some… work. You see, I wasn't very happy when young Harry killed me last year and since then, I have been looking for another way to gain immortality."

"Excuse me, but… How did you survive?" Hermione couldn't help but to ask.

"Quite miraculous, wasn't it? Well, when I obtained corporeal form several years ago, I began to create a new one, on the chance that something would go wrong. When Potter killed me, I simple moved my consciousness to the new body and… well, here I am!" He made a gesture over his body.

Hermione looked at him. "How do you make a new body?"

Voldemort chuckled. "It takes quite a lot of Dark Magic. I think you are still a bit too young and innocent to hear about it. When I wish to make you sick, I shall tell you."

Hermione didn't know if he was joking or not.

He placed a hand on her knee. "What do you know about the Holy Grail?"

"It's an old legend. It is said that the Grail possess extraordinary powers. Even Muggles have heard about it. Many have tried to find it. I thought that was just a myth?"

Voldemort nodded. "Most of the Holy Grail story is a legend. All that nonsense about Christ's blood is just a myth. However, a cup with extraordinary powers has existed in stories long before Christianity. Hermione, I want that cup. And I wish you to help me."

Hermione sighed. She could feel a small tingle of magic fall over her. She had no choice but to obey his wishes. "Well, I don't have much choice, do I?"

He leaned over her and placed both hands on her knees. "No, you do not. But you should be grateful that I haven't ordered you to go back to Hogwarts and kill Harry Potter. Luckily for you, I'd rather do it myself."

Hermione didn't say anything. She felt like she was trapped. But, he was right; he could do something far worse. Researching was something she enjoyed. At least she knew he wouldn't lock her inside this small room forever.

"I think we should set up some ground rules," he continued.

"O-okay."

"Firstly, I will warn you. I have been told that I have a horrible temper. If I'm angry, you better stay out of my way. I can't harm you, but it doesn't mean I can't do anything else."

"Why do you warn me?"

"Because you are my wife and I'm forced to protect you."

"Ah…"

"Ah, indeed. I have never wished to be married. I can't say that I'm pleased you are here, even if you can be of some use. You had better do your best to please me. And never think of me as a friend. I am not a friend of anyone but myself. I can be nice, at most."

Why wasn't she more freaked out by this?

"Secondly, don't take liberties upon my person. If I wish to be touched or spoken too, I'll say so."

Hermione frowned. "I never wanted to be here in the first place, why do you assume I would like to touch you?"

He grunted. "Some people have taken liberties in the past. It hasn't always been pleasurable."

"But you are allowed to take liberties?" she asked and looked down on his hands, which had travelled up on her thighs.

"Yes. I will be the dominant partner in this marriage and I will take what I want. Don't ever doubt it. Be very glad I can't physically hurt you." His voice had a hard edge to it now.

Hermione looked him in the eyes. "Trust me, I am."

He looked back. For a moment Hermione thought he would kiss her. But he smiled and let go of her. "I'll be back before dusk. Someone will bring you the books about the Grail and other mythical cups. I don't expect you to find anything of value anytime soon…"

"So, I am not allowed to leave the room?" she asked unsurprised.

"No. I still can't trust you at all. All I know is that you where sent here to kill me."

Hermione sighed. He left the room. She sank down on the chair and looked at the desk. The plate with food had disappeared without her noticing it. The newspaper was still there, but other than that, it was empty. She opened the first drawer and found a quill, some ink and parchment. There was a small bell in the second drawer. Curious, she rang it.

A House-Elf popped up. It was tiny and dressed in a dirty towel. The ears pointed downwards as the Elf bowed. "What can Lolly do for Lady?" she asked. Hermione was pretty certain it was a female.

"I… I just wanted to know what happened when I rang the bell. Please don't bow like that. I'm no Lady."

The Elf looked up and showed Hermione her grey eyes. "But Lady you are! And every time Lady ring bell, Lolly will be here to help."

"Oh, how thoughtful. But please, my name is Hermione."

"Lady Hermione," the Elf whispered. "What can Lolly do?"

"Um… I… Well, I would like to take a shower before I start my research. Perhaps you could bring me some shampoo, conditioner and a big towel?" Hermione hadn't seen any of these items in the bathroom.

"Lolly could right away, Lady!" Lolly said happily and popped out. A moment later, she returned and gave Hermione the items she asked for.

Hermione went to the bathroom and stripped. Her hand touched the necklace she received from Dumbledore. She pulled it over her head and placed the invisible necklace on top of her robe so she could find it later. She turned on the sprinkles and stepped inside the shower stall. It wasn't big, but it was large enough. She wondered if Voldemort used this shower too…

She almost started to hyperventilate when she thought on her husband. All calmness disappeared. She was married to the Dark Lord! She would help him search for immortality! He would be back at dusk and only Merlin knew what would happen then! She had to obey him!

She sank down to the floor as tears of desperation started to run down her cheeks. He would never let her see her friends again. He would use her any way he could until the day she died. All because Fudge had this "brilliant" plan to kill Voldemort. Fudge was really be stupid to have thought she could do anything. She was good with books! She knew so little about fighting… If it wasn't for the protections in the Contract, Voldemort would have killed her by now. The moment he found a way to break the Contract, he would kill her. She couldn't catch her breath.

He would kill her. She would never get to do all the things she had wanted. He would rape her and then kill her. He would probably kill her slowly, torture her... She would be begging for death before he killed her, she was certain of it.

Hermione cried over the images her mind produced for her. She didn't know how long it took, but after a while the tears stopped. Her logical mind started to function again. Why was she feeling so out of control? She fairly calm before she got into the shower…

Suddenly she realised why she felt so out of control… the necklace. Of course. Dumbledore must have put some spell on it. She had heard of spells like that. St Mungo's used them on some of their patients. Dumbledore must have thought she could benefit from some calming. She found the gesture both sweet and irritating. Didn't he think she could handle it herself? That she wasn't strong?

Rising from the floor, she took a couple of deep breaths and ordered herself to calm down. She decided she could handle it herself. She would not put on the necklace again. It seemed better to tackle her fears head on than to mask her emotions with false tranquillity. Additionally, there were side effects from being under the influence of such a spell for too long. People tended to get too relaxed, which could possibly put them in life threatening situations. They would lose their adrenaline, their instincts to survive. She was in the worst situation imaginable. Even married to Voldemort, she didn't want to be under a spell like that. She would manage without it. She had to.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi! I'm at my parent's place and I hate this computer, but hopefully, I'll be able to update. Ah, well, if something seems to be wrong in the chapter (like if it says something like; Hh47£uri4) please tell me so I can try to uptade again. My parent's compute sometimes messes up the chapter... Don't know why.

And long live The Book and Library Conversion! I've never spent this much money on books before!!

**Warning; Smut is coming up!**

* * *

Chapter 3

Hermione enjoyed reading the books Voldemort gave her. After she confirmed that the bedroom door was indeed locked as Voldemort said, she sighed, resigned to her situation, and began reviewing the books. She started with the oldest, which where in Latin. She enjoyed reading Latin and had learned it years before. Even so, she was thankful for the lexicon Voldemort provided her as she didn't want to miss any words.

Most of the books were like fairy tale stories for children. Some were about great kings and queens who managed to do great deeds with powers from the cup. Hermione could understand why Voldemort was interested in it. If it had even half the powers the stories claimed it to have, it would be priceless. In addition to the power to give immortality, the cup could tell the future, restore life to the dead, poison enemies, transform deserts into oasis, heal the sick, give strength, power, fame, money, magic… The list went on and on. However, Hermione thought that there was a veil of truth to these stories. The cup always looked the same. A modest wooden cup that turned into gold when someone of pure spirit touched it. If the part about the pure spirit was true, she couldn't help but think that Voldemort would never find it.

Unable to leave the bedroom, she called on Lolly two more times asking for food. When dusk approached, she was laying on the bed sipping a cup of tea with one hand and reading a book with the other. It was in that position that Voldemort found her.

"Have you had a pleasant day?" he asked.

Hermione jumped when she heard him and spilled some of her tea onto her hand. She cursed and quickly placed the cup on the nightstand. Thankfully, she hadn't spilled any on the book.

"Language," Voldemort said, as he cleaned up her mess with a lazy flick of his wand.

Hermione looked at him. He appeared… happy. He was smiling. Hermione felt her heart beat faster in fear. What was he planning to do?

"I brought you your truck," he said. "I have, of course, taken away all weapons. You didn't bring much else."

"I-I didn't think I would need much…," she mumbled.

He arched an eyebrow. "You seem tense."

"I…" She grew quite. She had placed the necklace in her shoe instead of around her neck and she found that she was more nervous. The calming properties of the necklace were reduced. However, she would deal with it. She had too.

He frowned. "Have you done something?"

"What? How could I? I've been here reading all day… I even found the bell and a House-Elf brought me some food."

"You weren't tense this morning," he commented.

Hermione opened her mouth, but closed it again. For some reason, she didn't want Voldemort to know about the necklace. Couldn't she have some secrets?

"Tell me what you are hiding," he demanded, suddenly angry.

She had to say something, quickly! "I'm… I'm afraid of having sex," she confessed quickly and blushed.

He stared at her, then he smiled. "You are a virgin."

She nodded, too embarrassed to say anything.

Voldemort sat down on the bed next to her. "You have nothing to worry about. I am obligated not to harm you. You will enjoy it."

Hermione blushed even more. Not only because of the embarrassing subject, but also because she couldn't help but feel a little attracted to Voldemort. He seemed to know what she was thinking, because he smiled and made her lay down on the bed. He muttered a spell and waved his wand. She guessed it was a contraceptive charm, but she didn't have time to ask. Her heart felt like it was about to leave her chest when he joined her on the bed and moved on top of her. He stroked her arms and then placed them over her head holding her with a firm grip.

He leaned down and placed his mouth right next to her ear. "You will not think of anyone else when you are with me, wife. I wish for you to relax and enjoy this."

Hermione felt a tingle of magic, binding her to his will, and suddenly her whole body relax. She had no choice but to obey him. When he kissed her throat, she stopped thinking about anything else but the feel of his lips on her. It felt very good. She hadn't known how sensitive the throat was… Oh, she had to remember that spot!

He made short work of her clothes as he kissed and suckled every new bit of exposed skin. He paid extra attention to her breasts. Hermione moaned and writhed when he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked. It felt so good and… very naughty. Did all girls feel like this when they where with an experienced man?

"I don't want you to wear Muggle clothing," he suddenly ordered. "Not these little things either." He ripped off her knickers.

"Why?" she asked breathlessly. He had awoken sexual desire in her and she was aching all over. Her brain wasn't functioning correctly either… wasn't there supposed to be something wrong about all of this?

"Easier access," he said and suddenly he was naked too. She hadn't even seen him use his wand. "And I despise all things Muggle."

He let go of her hands and caressed his way down toward her legs. She buckled when he stroked her where no man had ever touched her. He boldly entered her with a finger and she gasped in delight.

"Tight," he muttered and captured a nipple between his lips again. His thumb found her clit and Hermione was moaning in desire. She didn't know who she was anymore; all she knew was the astonishing feelings he was giving her.

She moved her hands to his hair and pulled his head closer to her breast. She felt a heat she never felt before and she wanted him to devour her. His hands came up and removed her hands from his hair. Their eyes met. Interestingly, he almost looked angry… The next moment, she felt something she never experienced before and she knew that her status as a virgin was coming to a close. From the strange sensation, she guessed that his penis penetrated her virginal opening. She didn't feel any pain at all. Then again, he had ordered her not to. He held her hands beside her head and stared at her intently as he pushed in and out of her slowly. He moved her hands so that he could hold them in one hand while his other hand travelled down to her nub again. She moaned and he caressed her faster. He stroked her clit more deliberately and she climaxed, screaming like a banshee. Within moments he followed her and fell down on top of her. They lay there exhausted and tried to catch their breaths. Finally, Voldemort rolled off her.

"Look," he said and held up his left hand where a wedding ring had appeared. "Now we are officially married."

The magic of his wish disappeared and Hermione burst into tears.

xxx

Voldemort watched his young crying wife with a frown. It was not that he wasn't used to seeing people cry. As a matter of fact, he was often the reason why people cried! But he hadn't expected her to cry now. She had enjoyed it, he knew she had! He had taken his time with her, even if he usually didn't care about his partners. He had with her. Sure, he had been a little angry when she touched his head; he didn't like it when people touched him uninvited. She hadn't seemed to notice his anger… so why was she crying? He didn't realise that he yelled that out loud until she answered.

"I-I, d-don't know…," she sobbed. "I-I c-cant h-help it!"

Voldemortsighed and turned to his back to her. The girl was only whimpering now. He stared at his new wedding ring again. It had appeared the moment he penetrated the girl and consummated their marriage. Their rings would stay on their respective fingers untill the day one of them died. He was convinced that she would be the one to go first.

He wasn't sure what he would do with his new wife. If she were to make it a habit of crying every time they had sex, he wouldn't want to do it with her. He would continue to use her to research the cup but she was only nineteen and what could she possible find that he hadn't? Even if she had done well in all her exams, she couldn't know everything!

She couldn't harm him and he couldn't harm her. He had tried to be nice toward her and she had been civilised toward him. Voldemort was a controlling person. He wanted everything in order and he categorized everyone he came in contact with. They where either minions, enemies or unimportant. Until four days ago, Hermione Granger had been an enemy because of her affiliation with Potter. But what was she now? She wasn't a minion, because he couldn't harm her if she didn't please him. She couldn't harm him, so she wasn't an enemy anymore. He could use her, so she wasn't unimportant… She was his wife, but he didn't know what that meant! He didn't even know what he was supposed to call her! In his mind, she was "the girl". When he talked about her, she was his "wife". But could he continue to call her wife? Sure, he could but… the title didn't suit her. She was nothing like he had expected a wife to be. He wasn't sure what he expected but this girl wasn't it. She was…

He suddenly sat up. Why hadn't he thought about this before? Just because he couldn't harm her, didn't mean he couldn't hurt others through her. He rose from the bed and walked over to his wardrobe cabinet. He was certain he had a camera in there somewhere.

"W-what are you d-doing?" she asked as she sat up.

"Stay there," he ordered. He didn't have to wish it; he knew she would stay there.

After a minute of digging around in a drawer, he found what he was looking for and turned around.

Her eyes widened.

"Smile," he said and took a picture. It was a magical camera and the picture developed immediately. He smiled when he saw it. You could see the girl had been crying after being thoroughly fucked. Oh yes, this would do nicely.

"What did you do that for?" she asked angrily.

"Don't you think Potter would like to have a wedding picture?" he asked with a smirk.

"You wouldn't…"

"Oh yes, I would."

He went over to the desk and signed the photo. He hadn't heard her move before she threw herself at him.

"Give me that!" she hissed and tried to reach the photo over his arm.

He held it out of her reach and pushed her away. "Don't do that," he demanded coldly. "I have tried to be nice, but I can't let a wonderful opportunity like this just go by."

Tears gathered in her eyes again. "He would just be worried…"

"Yes, and very angry. I like to see the boy angry. He is reckless and always makes mistakes when he is angry."

The girl looked ready to hit him, but when she raised her hand she flinched like someone had hit her. She let her arm fall.

He looked curious at her. "You tried to hit me. What happened?"

"Well… it felt like an electric shock or something. Then I didn't want to hit you anymore."

"Interesting." He snapped his fingers and was dressed again. Wandless magic was so practical. "I have a letter to send."

"How did you…?" the girl looked stunned. When he made to leave she gripped his arm. "Please don't send that picture!"

"Get your hands off me," he hissed and pushed her away. The girl let go and stared at him with big sad brown eyes. He snorted and left. She could be dying and he still wouldn't care. He just wasn't the caring type.

He arrived at the owl room that was at the end of one of the many dark corridors. He didn't like this house with its cold impersonal rooms. Most of his Death Eaters lived here, while practical, it was also annoying. He had always preferred to be alone, but now he seldom was. Every time he left his room, there was always someone wanting to speak with him. Now that he was married, he would never be alone! He had never liked to sleep in the same room as others. Not at the orphanage, nor at Hogwarts. But at least they had been boys… his wife was a girl. She just couldn't shut up! Too bad he couldn't drug her with sleeping potion all the time. That would be mistreating her, which he couldn't do thanks to the Contract.

He chose an ordinary brown owl. After giving it the letter, he stood at the window and enjoyed being alone. It was a beautiful summer night. There was no moon yet, but the stars twinkled at him. Nature was one of the few things he took pleasure in. When he was young, he had always enjoyed the trips out of London to the countryside. The city made him feel confined. The door opened behind him and he snapped out of his reverie.

"My Lord." It was Antonin Dolohov. Voldemort never liked his minions, but Antonin was one of his favourites. He was shorter than Voldemort, but just as thin. He had a very ordinary face that allowed him blend in anywhere. He was very good at picking up details and could talk his way out of anything.

"Antonin," Voldemort acknowledged him with a sigh.

"Is something bothering you, master?" Antonin asked as he went to an owl and tied a letter to its leg.

Voldemort didn't answer. He didn't like it when people saw his emotions. He was still annoyed because he didn't know why the girl had cried. Could it be the stress?

Antonin had always been pushy. "Is it the girl?"

Voldemort sighed. "It's a shame I can't kill her."

Antonin looked thoughtful. "She could be useful. We already know that she is the brain behind Potter. With a little… retraining she could be very useful to us."

Voldemort just sighed again, but Antonin's word made him think. He knew she was good with books. He had already asked her to research the Cup… but Antonin was right. He didn't know if she had any other talents. She had always been in Potter's shadow. Perhaps he should train her himself?

"I wish you a good night, my Lord," Antonin bowed and left.

Voldemort suddenly felt hopeful. If she was as good with magic as she was with books, she may be a diamond in the rough. This could be much better than he first thought.

xxx

Hermione used the bathroom and then went back to bed. The new wedding ring felt like a curse upon her finger. Why was he so mean? You would think a shag would make him nicer, but no. Not the Dark Lord. He was just so evil and scary as well… Oh Merlin, what would Harry say? He would be so sad… and angry.

She was in bed for over an hour and when Voldemort returned she pretended to be asleep. She heard him go to the bathroom and come back out again. He sank down on the bed next to her. She tried to relax and just ignore him, but his presence was so intense.

Suddenly, he sighed. "I know you are awake."

"So?"

"I can't sleep if you are awake."

"Why not? It's not like I could harm you," she muttered. She wished that she had been asleep. Then she wouldn't have to speak with him. There was a small ache between her legs and she knew that if she started to think about it, she would just start to cry again. She was doing a lot of that lately.

"No… But I prefer to sleep alone but I especially don't like to sleep with someone who's awake."

"Sorry. I can't say I like sleeping next to you either." She tried to be angry and annoyed. It was better than being hysterical. Panic and sobbing wouldn't make the situation any better.

He snorted. "What do you want me to do about it?"

She sighed and gathered her courage to turn around and face him. She could do this. He was just her husband. He wouldn't hurt her. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face him. He also turned toward her.

"Look, I'm not happy to be married to you either. But let's face it, until one of us dies…"

"Until you die," he interrupted.

Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored the trembling running down her spine. She had to see this logically. "Fine. Until I die, we will have to live together. Those Contracts are unbreakable for a reason. I find it completely unjust, but I would like to at least get along with you. I don't want to spend the rest of my life being unhappy."

He watched her for a moment. "Do you always give up this easily?"

"What?" His comment made her forget about being afraid of him. She was a Gryffindor for crying out loud! They never gave up!

"You are talking like you won't even try to kill me," he teased.

"And that makes you unhappy because…"

"Answer the question."

Her eyes narrowed. "No I haven't given up but I'm not stupid enough to fight battles that are doomed to fail. I have never heard of anyone getting out of a Contract, and until I get any indication that there is a way out of this, I would like to focus on the battles that I can win."

"And those battles would be…?"

"Manage to survive as your wife."

He smiled at her with his hand moved a stray hair away from her face. "Is that why you don't try to keep your hair in order?"

"What?"

"You said you weren't fighting loosing battles," he said, now smirking.

"I don't like to waste time either," she hissed and pushed his hand away.

He chuckled and turned his back at her. "Well, good luck then."

"With what?" she asked irritated.

"With surviving as my wife."

She didn't answer. It would only be a waste of time.

xxx

Hermione must have fallen asleep after all because when she woke up, the sun was shining in her eyes. She turned her head and noticed that he wasn't there. That was good. She needed some time alone before she faced him again. She hadn't had any grand fantasies about her first time with a man. It was just sex, after all… but it had been quite plain with Voldemort. Sure, he had made her climax in a way she hadn't done before but… but shouldn't there be something more? After everything she had heard about Voldemort, she had expected… more. Why have all those dark powers if it can't make you a sex god in bed?

Sighing, she got up and went to the bathroom. The first thing she did was step into the shower. After scrubbing herself more than usual to get rid of his touch, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. There was no use in feeling disgusted over what happened. She had done nothing wrong. They were married. She found out that he was human after all. He had needs. Somehow, that made him less terrifying. What had she been so scared off? He was just a man. A very powerful man, but still…

She returned to the room and found breakfast on the desk. She sat down and grimaced. Why wasn't she allowed to wear knickers? It was very irritating to move without them.

The door swung open and hit the wall with a bang. Hermione watched carefully as Voldemort stepped in with a very angry look on his face. He was cursing under his breath and kicked the pile of clothes. It was all so… human.

"What is this mess doing here?" he hissed.

Hermione looked at the clothes. "Well, you left them there yesterday when we…"

"Why are they still there? Clean it up!" he ordered.

Hermione stared at him, getting angry. "You are the one with a wand."

"CLEAN UP THE FUCKING MESS OR I'LL THROW YOU OUT THE WINDOW!" he roared.

Not sure if he could throw her out of the window or not, Hermione got up and pulled the dirty robes into her arms. She wasn't certain if throwing her out the window counted toward hurting her as it was the landing that would hurt. Deciding not to find out, she carried the clothes into the bathroom and called Lolly who was more than happy to take care of the clothes. Hermione went back to the room and saw Voldemort sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.

"Did something happen?" she asked curiously.

"What did I tell you about speaking unless spoken too?" he hissed.

Oh, right, the no speaking, no touching rule. "Sorry," she muttered.

She sank down on the chair next to the desk again and continued to eat. Since her husband wasn't much company, she read The Daily Prophet instead. Nothing interesting had happened. Death and destruction was something she read about every day. After awhile you got numb toward it. She turned the pages and her eyes fell on the Society pages. She almost choked when her eyes fell on the Wedding Announcements.

"What is it?" Voldemort asked annoyed as she coughed.

Hermione held up the paper and he rose from the bed to read it. He shrugged when he saw their notice. It wasn't much, just _Hermione J Granger and Tom M Riddle marriage completed at 9:50 PM, 11__th__ of June 1998. _

"What?" he asked again. "Everyone already knew, didn't they?"

"Yes, but now they are going to know exactly when we had sex!" she hissed.

"So?"

"So it's not something I would want people to read in the newspaper!"

He arched an eyebrow. "You are just being silly."

"I still don't like it!"

He shook his head and went back to the bed. "You have been scheduled for a tailor's appointment this afternoon."

"What for?" she asked, still looking down at the newspaper. Merlin, everyone would know what they had done… when they had done it. It was just sick!

He laid down on the bed. "As my wife, people will expect you to be dressed as a Lady. I can't have you running around in your school uniforms. You'll also need some training outfits."

"Training? What kind of training?" she asked, finally putting down the newspaper. It was better to focus on something else.

"Oh, a little this and that."

"From whom?"

"Me."

Hermione was quiet. She didn't know if she should be happy or scared. Voldemort was said to be one of the best duellers alive, both with a wand and without it. You had to be good with your body if you wanted to be good in magic. Everything was connected and the body couldn't handle a lot of magic if it was weak. Was he using this training excuse as a means to hurt her? Just because she saw him as human didn't mean that she didn't think he couldn't hurt her. She was very certain he could.

"When will I begin my training?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. I just received a troublesome message from Finland and I'll have to leave soon. Since we have to live together, you'll have to come with me. Hence, the tailor's appointment."

"Oh… What are you doing in Finland?"

He snorted. "Looking for Santa Clause. Do you think I will tell you?"

"I just thought it had something to do with the Cup," she muttered.

"Why would you think that?"

She shrugged. "Cups and other bowls were used in magical rituals up there. There are many myths about magical objects in the Kalevala. Sampo, for example. It's believed to be a small mill, but no one really knows what it looked like. I believe people thought it was a mill because it could make salt, flour and gold out of thin air. But then again, some thought it was a compass which gave luck to the bearer."

Voldemort seemed thoughtful. "I have read about it… I guess we could look around when we get there. However, we are going to the south of Finland, Hamina."

Hermione smiled. "Oh, so you are going to get a new military base?"

He grunted. "Why would you think that?"

"Because that is what Hamina was built for. These days it's one of the most important harbours in Finland. It would be a very strategic place if you wanted to control the Nordic Sea. Both the military and trading markets. Why would you want to control that?"

Voldemort tilted his head. "Since when do you know so much about Finland?"

"I read a lot," Hermione mumbled feeling quite embarrassed for getting carried away like that.

"No, you are hiding something." Voldemort suddenly smiled. "I wish for you to tell me what you are hiding."

Hermione tried to fight the magical order, but she couldn't. "The Order has a station there with three men. They want to protect the magical trading place there." Hermione almost cried at the end. She didn't want to tell him that!

Voldemort, on the other hand, smiled and went over to her to pat her head. "I'm glad you told me this, wife. I would have been very unhappy if I had been ambushed there."

Hermione hid her face in her hands. Voldemort chuckled and left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Well, well, well, what have we here? Oh, yes, it's chapter 4!

Enjoy!

**Warning; Some smut!**

* * *

Chapter 4

Dumbledore placed his fingers on his temples and sighed. Ever since it became common knowledge that a Hogwarts student married Lord Voldemort, parents weren't so keen to send their children to the school anymore. Several parents had already sent owls to tell him that their children weren't coming the next term. It bothered Dumbledore. He had always thought education was the foundation of goodness. Children who didn't get a proper education were easier to trick into the Dark.

Not that Tom Riddle hadn't had a proper education… Something else must have been wrong with that boy. He just hadn't been like any other boy Dumbledore had ever met. The small orphan boy had always acted strange. The Headmaster remembered Tom's first birthday at the school…

"_Mr Riddle?" Dumbledore found the twelve-year-old boy near the forest. It was the last day of the year and not many students remained over the holidays. As it was cold outside, everyone seemed to be inside their respective Common Rooms. But for some reason, Tom Riddle was standing outside._

"_Hello Professor," the boy said calmly. He had been looking at something in the forest, but now he turned around and faced his teacher._

"_What are you doing outside in the cold and all alone?" Dumbledore asked._

"_Just walking. I like the snow."_

"_Yes, it's very beautiful… you are lucky to have such beautiful weather on your birthday." Dumbledore carefully watched the boys reaction, but Tom merely shrugged._

"_I guess."_

"_Why don't you go inside and celebrate with your friends. I can ask a house-elf to bring you a cake," Dumbledore suggested. As he was raised in an orphanage, he probably never received a birthday cake before._

"_No, thank you, Professor. I don't like cake."_

Dumbledore was pulled out of his reverie when the door to his office burst open and a very upset Harry Potter stormed into the room. He was holding an envelope in his hand and he threw it on Dumbledore's desk.

"Look!" Harry shouted. "Look at what the bastard has done to her!"

Frowning, Dumbledore opened the envelope and found a card. On the back of it the card said, _our wedding night - Lord Voldemort. _Dumbledore turned the card and saw a picture of Hermione. She was sitting on a bed, holding a blanket around her body. She had a horrified look on her face and he could see that she had been crying.

He sighed and put the photograph down on his desk. "I'm sorry you received this, but we knew this would happen."

"You knew that son of a bitch would rape her?" Harry screamed at Dumbledore, spittle escaping his mouth.

"Please, Harry, language." Dumbledore sighed again. "I don't believe he raped her per se… He can't physically hurt her…"

"But she has been crying!"

"Yes… But I would have been very surprised if she hadn't cried when Lord Voldemort took her to his bed… He is not a pleasant man." Dumbledore felt quite uncomfortable talking about sex with a student. He was an old man after all, and Voldemort's idea of a joke had shocked and saddened him.

"There has to be a way to get her away from him!" Harry yelled and slammed his fist into the back of an armchair that stood in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"I am trying to find a way to break the Contract, but there is no known way."

"You'd better find a way soon," Harry hissed and left the office.

Dumbledore sighed and looked at the picture again. What could he do?

xxx

The tailor was a minor Death Eater. Voldemort would not let his wife met with anyone from outside his influence. Not yet anyway. He brought the tailor to their room and stayed there during the visit. He wanted to be sure the girl didn't say anything inappropriate. The girl and the tailor were standing in the middle of the room. Voldemort sat by the desk, pretending to read.

"You have the most gorgeous legs I have seen in a long time," the tailor complimented the girl.

She blushed. "Thank you… er…" She was standing on a pall in only her underwear. Voldemort hadn't wanted the tailor to see her naked, so he commanded her to wear underwear. Voldemort looked up when he heard the tailor's comment. He realised he hadn't really looked at her body before. Now when he did, he discovered he found her quite pretty. He'd had many beauties in his days, but looks never mattered to him. As long as he was satisfied, he didn't care what they looked like. After a while, all women looked the same.

But his wife was pretty. She would never be a wife he could show off (like Lucius could do with Narcissa), but maybe if he hired someone to do something about that hair… He didn't like her hair and he was sure she didn't either. There would be occasions where she would need to look elegant and with that hair, she needed all the hired help he could get her.

"I know just what kind of robes you should wear," the tailor continued as he finished taking her measurements. "You should wear straight seams, that way you will look more symmetric. And I'm thinking natural colours, like brown, green, orange… perhaps some darker tones of red. Not blue or yellow, it will only make you look sick."

"Black," Voldemort said and looked down at his book again. "I want black. Other colours for her feast robes. But no orange."

"Er… of course, Sir. Black goes with everything," the tailor said and looked at Hermione who shrugged. "I'll have them done before Monday!"

"Good," Voldemort said in a tone of dismissal. The tailor bowed and hurried out from the room.

"It wouldn't kill you to be friendly," the girl muttered and went to the bed where she had placed her robe.

"But it will," Voldemort said and got up from the chair. "If I'm friendly without reason, people will see it as a weakness. I'm only friendly when I want something…"

Hermione snorted and started to pull on her robe.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Voldemort asked and let his eyes wander down to her kickers.

"What?" she said, but then followed his eyes. She scowled, pulled her knickers off and threw them at him.

He caught them with a smile. "One day, I will not even have to remind you."

She just snorted. "I don't understand why I can't wear them. I'm uncomfortable without them."

"You'll get used to it," he said, his eyes still on her.

He felt a throb in his pants. Should he…? It had been very boring to just sit here and watch her in those plain underwear. Boring, yet still… he was a man after all. He knew it was a weakness but no one had to know. The girl wouldn't tell anyone if he gave in to his physical urges. Before last night, it had been a very long time since he'd had sex with a woman.

"Stop," he said softly.

"Wha…" She turned around and saw him unbutton the front of his robe. Her eyes fell down to his loins. "Oh…"

"Pull it off," he ordered.

She swallowed, but did. Her robe fell to the floor.

"Place your hands on the wall," he commanded and moved toward her.

"Why…"

"Do it," he growled. He didn't want her trying to stroke his hair like he was a dog or something.

She swallowed again but did as he commanded. He could see that she was trembling. He put his hands on her waist and slowly let his hands caress the sides of her body. She was petite; she had a small waist, small hips and small breasts. The only big thing about her was her hair.

"Wha…"

"Hush, wife…" He kissed her ear. "I wish for you to get wet enough for me to penetrate you."

She gasped and he continued to kiss his way down her neck and over her shoulder. His hand went down to her pussy and found it satisfyingly wet. "Spread your legs."

She did. She had quite long legs but not long enough. He bent his knees and pushed into her. She gasped again, but didn't move her hands from the wall. Excellent. He started to push faster into her. This wasn't making love. He just wanted release. He had been tensed and stressed about the Finland affair all day.

He hardened his grip on her hips as he thought about it. How could they deny him access to the market? Sure, he was planning to control it, but now they had banned him as a costumer. Banned him! Oh, they would pay. He would make sure they regretted the day they put Lord Voldemort on the black list.

He was ripped out of his angry thoughts when she screamed as she orgasmed. Her already tight channel clenched him in a way that was both painful and pleasurable. He came too with a low growl. The girl was trembling and if he hadn't held such a tight grip around her waist, she would have probably collapsed. He lifted her up and carried her to bed.

"So you like it hard?" he asked smugly.

"Hmmm…?" was all she answered. "I'm tired…"

He chuckled. He felt much better now. Relaxed, focused. "You may sleep. I have some things I should take care off."

"Mhm…" She was almost asleep. He wasn't surprised. She had been tossing and turning half the night before.

After a quick shower, he left the room. He had to make sure someone took care of those annoying Order members in Hamina.

xxx

When Hermione woke up again it was dark outside. Voldemort wasn't in bed so she figured he was still working. What did that man do all day and night? There had been a lot of Death Eater activity lately, but Voldemort hadn't been seen since Harry killed his previous body. She wasn't surprised he wasn't with them to do the dirty work. He seemed to be more comfortable with letting others get their hands dirty. But what was he doing? Was he supervising them in some way? Did he sit in some chamber and think about nasty ways to kill people?

She stepped into the shower and snorted at her own thoughts. She was just being curious. Who wouldn't be interested to know what the most fearsome man alive did when he was alone. She knew Dumbledore would be very happy for what little information she could bring him. Like Voldemort being interested in the Cup, having affairs in Hamina and… sleeping next to her. Who would have thought the Dark Lord would actually sleep in the same bed as his wife? Sure, they had to live together and this room was his home for the moment but… why couldn't he just use another bed?

Deciding it wouldn't hurt to ask; she started to wash herself thoroughly. She realised she had dried sperm on the inside of her thighs and she felt disgusted. Why had she responded to him like that? She had been scared when he ordered her to take off her robes. Scared and… excited. She knew he couldn't hurt her. Not physically, anyway.

She groaned and leaned her forehead against the wall as she fought away the tears. It was not as if she liked him in any way. She hadn't had sex with anyone before him, but she was sure it was supposed to feel better than this. Even with Victor she had felt some kind of spark. A connection. She couldn't feel any of that with her husband. He was… what they did… it was just physical. Not just with the sex but with everything! He didn't care about her. All he did was make sure she was safe and healthy and that was because he was obligated to do it!

She started to wash the rat nest she called hair.

He didn't like her hair either. Not that she was surprised. Who would like her hair? Not even Ron had. But, did he have to be so blunt about it? She already knew it was horrible.

When she was done, she stepped out from the shower and pulled a plain white towel around her body. She had clean robes in her trunk but her trunk was in the bedroom. She forgot to bring it with her to the bathroom. Sighing, she went back into the bedroom and headed for her trunk.

"What are you doing?"

Hermione looked toward the bed and saw Voldemort sitting there, reading a book. He watched her with a surprised look on his face. She pulled the towel closer around her body.

"I… I forgot my robe… I just figured I could get a clean one from my trunk…"

"It's three o'clock in the morning," he said while he pointed toward the window. It was still dark, but it had started to get lighter on the horizon. She realised they must be somewhere in the north of Britain. Probably in Scotland. Otherwise it wouldn't have started to lighten yet.

"Well… I fell asleep after we… and when I woke up… I just wasn't sleepy anymore."

His lips curled. "Oh, you weren't sleepy? So you decided to take a shower?"

She refused to blush. "Yes." Feeling bold she asked, "Why are we sleeping in the same bed, anyway?"

He looked surprised again. Before he answered, Hermione found a robe and pulled it on. She took her brush and sat down on the chair next to the desk and began combing it.

He sighed, put a mark in his book, and rose from the bed. "I will not redecorate because of you." He took the brush from her hand and pulled out his wand. "Besides, if I separate our beds there will be almost no room for us when I require your service."

She snorted. "You weren't using a bed this afternoon."

"This afternoon wasn't… planned." He waved his wand and suddenly, her hair was dry and not as tangled as before. "There, it's the best I can do. I don't use hair spells that often."

Hermione brought her hand to her hair and ran her fingers through it. "It has never been this smooth before, thank you. Where did you learn that spell?" She turned around and watched him make a grimace as he sat down on top of the desk.

"Abraxas Malfoy was two years my senior. He was very keen on his appearance. I picked up a thing or two."

Hermione snorted again. "I can imagine."

He sneered. "The youngest Malfoy has told me quite a bit about you."

Hermione arched her eyebrows. "Really? When?"

"Some hours ago. He just returned from school."

Hermione felt a stab in her heart when she thought about Hogwarts. "Oh… Yes… The ceremony must have been this evening… Will I receive my N.E.W.T's results?"

He shrugged. "If Dumbledore sends it to you, I will let you look at them. But I will review the letter before you read it."

"Why?" she asked with a frown.

He smiled sweetly. "Because I am responsible for your safety and who knows what kind of dreadful curses you can find in a letter."

She scowled. "Well, it's not like anyone would send any secrets to me."

"You never know." He got off the desk and back to the bed. "If you'll excuse me, I will try to get some sleep. I have made another appointment for you tomorrow." He threw of his robe and hung it over the end of the bed.

"What for?" she asked and tried to look anywhere but at her husband's naked backside as he crawled into the bed.

"A hairdresser. No one will take me serious if I show up with you and that hair."

His comment hurt, but not so much as it would have if someone she actually cared about had said it. Sighing, she decided to think about it positively. At least the hairdresser couldn't make it any worse.

xxx

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror with her mouth hanging open. What looked to be a dead poodle was lying on the floor, but if you looked closer, you would see that it was most of Hermione's hair. If she couldn't see and feel her hair, she wouldn't have thought anything was left on top of her head. But there was. Her eyebrows was thinner as well.

The hairdresser, a minor Death Eater, made herself ready to leave. "That will be all, then… if you are pleased?"

Hermione nodded. The hairdresser seemed a bit anxious, like Hermione would make Voldemort kill her or something.

"Good day then, Missus… And good luck with the baby and everything."

"The what?" Hermione turned around and stared at the hairdresser.

"Oh," the hairdresser seemed surprised. "We just thought that was why he married you. You know, all purebloods wants an heir."

Hermione stared at her. Did Voldemort want people to believe that she was carrying his child? They had never talked about it. "I… we haven't been married that long yet…"

"Oh, of course… um… goodbye!"

She left and Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't know if she was prettier than before. It was her but only different. Perhaps if she put on some make-up. Hermione went to her truck and rummaged until she found a brown eyeliner and some mascara. She didn't use make-up, but Ginny had given her some for Christmas and said she should use it sometime. With the new hairstyle, Hermione felt like now was the best time.

Very slowly, she put on the mascara and eyeliner. It made her eyes more colourful but something was not right. She tried to smile, but she only managed to grimace. She looked ridiculous. Like some little girl who was trying to look like someone else.

The door opened again and Voldemort stepped inside. He arched an eyebrow when he saw her.

She groaned. "I know, I look ridiculous…"

"Stand up," he said. Now she saw that he was caring a package under his arm.

She stood up and tried not to play with her new hair.

"Yes, you do look a bit ridiculous," he nodded.

She grimaced again.

"But I think you will look much better once you get out of your schoolgirl uniform," he continued. "It is not very flattering."

He went up to her and put the package on the desk. When he opened it, she saw it contained her new robes.

"Go ahead, put them on," he said.

She pulled up the first one. It looked more like an old fashion dress than a robe.

"Er… could you… turn around?" she asked as she started to unbutton her school robe.

He just arched an eyebrow. She sighed and changed clothes as quickly as she could. He helped her to button up the dress. She couldn't help but to like the dress. It was made of a very soft material that caressed her body. When she saw herself in the mirror she liked it even more. She had never had curves, but her body looked very feminine in the dress. There was a dark green petticoat under the black dress robe. The neckline was a vee cut, but wasn't too low. The dark green material was showing under the robe and the arms were long and wide.

"There, now you actually look like a young woman," Voldemort said. "I won't have to be ashamed having you on my arm."

Hermione glared at him, but she couldn't help but feel prettier. She looked in the mirror again and couldn't resist a smile. She felt a little like she had during the ball in her forth year.

Voldemort touched her hair with a satisfied smile. "Yes, this is much better."

Hermione looked herself in the mirror again and it suddenly hit her. She wasn't Hermione Granger anymore. She was a Lord Voldemort's wife.

xxx

There were many things Lord Voldemort knew. He knew the secrets passages under London; he knew how to speak twenty different languages and read a dozen more. He knew which body parts to press to make a person paralysed. He even knew what snakes gossiped about.

However, one thing he never figured out was why women seemed to cry when they should be happy.

He had given the girl a manageable hairstyle and new clothes and she started to cry. The crying-after-an-orgasm, he thought he had figured out. She became so relaxed that all the tension disappeared and caused her to cry. It was logical. He had just read a little psychology and the answer had been there. He did believe you could learn almost everything from a book.

"Why are you crying now?" he asked angrily.

"I-I'm sorry…," she sobbed. "It just hit me… I'm not… me anymore."

"That's ridiculous," he muttered.

"Why?" She stopped crying, and her make-up was still in place. "I had to give up everything to come here! Now, I don't even look like myself! Do I even have my own last name anymore?"

Well, when she put it that way… "What last name should you have?"

She shrugged. "Riddle?"

He snorted. "I don't even by that name."

"I refuse to be called Lady Voldemort."

He snorted again. "Yes, that would be absurd. You are a Mudblood, after all."

The girl folded her arms. "Well, you are a half-blood, so it wouldn't be that weird."

He froze and stared at her. He wanted to hit her so hard, but he couldn't. "What did I tell you about making me angry?"

"What will you do about it?" the girl asked cocky.

"I will go and take out my rage on a poor, probably innocent, Muggle. And you will have to live with the guilt." He turned around and moved toward the door.

She ran to stand in front of the door, her eyes still red and now frightened. "No! Please, I didn't mean to…"

"Too late," he hissed and pushed her aside.

Before he opened the door, she took his arm and pulled him back. He could see the desperation in her eyes. "Take it out on me instead!"

He watched her coldly. "Remember, I can't. And don't touch me."

She let go of him. Her eyes were big and she was begging. He smiled cruelly and locked the door behind him. His mission had always been to gain power over other people. Now he knew he had real power over his wife. She would do anything to stop him from hurting others.


	5. Chapter 5

Yay! Long chapter for the weekend! Hope you are all having a wonderful time!

* * *

Chapter 5

Before Hermione found out she was a witch, she had been a very unhappy little girl. She had never had any close friends because of her know-it-all attitude, strict parents, unusual hair, and her love of knowledge. She tried to change. When she was five, she found a scissor and cut off all her hair. People didn't like her any better. When she was six, she tried not to be seen with her parents or tell anyone about them. People still didn't like her. When she was eight, she tried to be quiet all the time and only speak when spoken too. People still thought she was weird.

So, when she was informed that she was a witch, she finally had an explanation for why she was so weird. She thought things would get better. She had studied hard to know everything about wizards and witches and she was sure they would like her if she fit in. No one had. And then Harry and Ron saved her from the Mountain Troll and they both became her best friends. After that, people started to respect her instead of mocking her. At the age of twelve, she was finally happy.

Unfortunately, that happy time was over now. She was almost twenty and married to the Dark Lord – a man who disliked her just because she was a Muggle-born and friend to his enemy. She was no longer allowed to have her own life. She existed only because Lord Voldemort couldn't find a way to kill her. Yet.

Hermione was certain he would kill her when the opportunity arose. The only thing standing in his way was the Contract. If he destroyed it, her life wouldn't be worth a Knut. Hermione knew this, and when she realised an innocent Muggle died because of her, she swore a silent oath not to let it happen again.

Voldemort returned at dusk with a smile on his face and blood on his robes. He looked at her with the most sadistic smile she had ever seen and then he stepped into the bathroom to take a shower. She knew what that look meant. He had killed someone only because she made him angry.

"I despise you," she hissed when he returned to bed.

"I know," he chuckled. "And I don't care. Will you be a good and obeying wife now?"

She clenched her fists. "Yes."

He snorted. "Why do I not believe you? I will be nice and I advise you to keep me happy from here on."

"What makes you happy, then?" She tried to stay calm. She would very much like to hit him where it hurts.

He suddenly rolled on top of her and pressed her hands into the mattress. His eyes were almost glowing in the dark. "Use your imagination."

Hermione could feel her heart speed up.

"Do I frighten you?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. "I would be a fool if I wasn't frightened by you."

"True," he said with a smirk. "Yet, you are the only one who is safe from me… physically at least. You know, I have thought about that. Would I be able to harm you if I used a wand?"

Hermione's eyes widened. He couldn't… oh, of course he could and would. He flicked his hand and suddenly his wand appeared. She tried to get loose, but he held her down. He put his wand at her neck and started to whisper "_Cru…_". Then he hissed and fell down on her.

"I guess not," he mumbled into her ear. "You're heart is beating like a drum."

He was right. She was almost crying out of fright. He nearly cursed her! If he found a way to hurt her she would probably be…

"What are you doing?" she asked when she felt his hands in her hair.

He lifted his head and looked at her. Then he looked at her hair. "I like it." Then he let go of her and rolled off.

She stared at him, but decided not to start a new conversation. She turned her back at him and after a while, she fell asleep.

xxx

"Wake up!"

Hermione was startled out of her sleep as water was poured over her. "What the hell are you doing?" she screamed.

Voldemort was standing next to the bed with an empty glass in his hand and a smirk on his face. "Waking you up. Come on, we are going to start your training."

"And you have to pour water over me?" she asked annoyed.

He shrugged. "It worked. Get dressed." He handed her a training suit. Hermione noticed he was wearing something similar.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to wear Muggle clothing," she said as she pulled the sweatshirt over her head.

"You aren't. This is not Muggle clothing. This was made by a witch."

Hermione wondered if it would be worth it to tell him that the clothes looked exactly like Muggle clothing. She thought better of it as she recalled what he did when he was angry yesterday. She bit her lip. If she made him angry too often, he would probably force _her_ to kill someone.

"We are going to Apparate," he muttered. She felt the usual sensation of Apparition and when she opened her eyes again, they were standing near a lake in an unfamiliar forest. It looked very peaceful and Hermione couldn't resist a smile, admiring its beauty

Voldemort broke her peacefulness when he spoke. "The rules are simple. We are not here to converse so try to keep up."

Hermione cleared her throat. His eyes narrowed.

"Sorry, but what are we going to do?"

"Run," he said. "I think two miles will be a good start."

"Two miles? You do remember there are no physical education class at Hogwarts?"

He closed his eyes and clenched his fist. "You don't seem to realise how hard I'm trying to be nice. Just do as I say and this will be so much easier."

Hermione frowned. "Why are you trying to be nice at me?"

"If you haven't noticed, we are married."

She just snorted. He probably didn't know why he was trying to be nice.

"Try to keep up. And do not attempt to run away. You don't even know what country we are in."

She sighed and when he started to run, she followed. Less than half mile later she was too fatigued and had to stop. She sank down on a rock and tried to catch her breath. Voldemort looked at her in annoyance.

"Just… one… moment," she said and clutched her side.

"Exercise is good. I would rather have done this on my own, but I'm obligated to keep you healthy."

"Right…" She took a deep breath and stood up again. "Okay, let's go."

He shook his head and started to run again. How could he be in such good condition? He must be like… 70 years old! Sure, he only had that body for a year, but… how could he be in such good physical condition?

She resisted the urge to ask the question aloud. Not only because he told her not to speak, but also because she didn't think she could run and talk at the same time. When he stopped again they where in a small glade. She fell down on the ground and just laid there from exhaustion.

"Why… are… you… doing… this… to… me?" she couldn't resist asking.

"I want my wife to be in good shape," he answered. It was unfair, he didn't sound tired at all. "Not only is appearance important, the stronger your body is, the harder you can train your magical ability."

"What?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Using magic is tiring. If your body is strong, you will not get tired so quickly. Trust me; you will need all the strength you can get once I start to teach you magic."

"Why are you going to teach me magic? You won't even allow me a wand," she panted.

He sat down on the grass next to her. "You will get your wand back once I know you won't try to hurt me or my followers."

"I haven't even met them yet." She was finally able to catch her breath.

"You will. But not until I'm sure you'll behave." He rose. "Let's run again."

"What? Aren't we done?"

"No one likes a whiner, girl."

She bit her lower lip and managed to get up again. Cursing him under her breath, she took off after him. He said he was trying to be nice, and perhaps taking her out for a run was nice in his estimation. However, Hermione couldn't really appreciate it when it felt like her lungs was about to explode!

They were running on a natural path around the lake, but she couldn't admire the view because she was too busy watching were she was running. There were a lot of roots on the path and she had stumbled four times already. She was breathing heavy through her nose and her mouth. It didn't feel like could get enough air into her lungs! She tried to focus on her legs. Right, left, right, left, watch out for the root, right, left, right, left… and she ran right into the back of her husband.

Before she had time to ask him what he was doing, he crouched down behind some bushes and whispered to her to be quiet. She lay as still as she could as she tried to get her breathing under control. Some moment later, she heard voices. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she could hear them getting closer. Voldemort put a hand over her mouth. Now she could hear them talking. It was not English. Words like "la robe" "bleu" and "mervilleux" reached her ears. They were speaking French, probably about clothes.

Two young women ran past their hiding place. Voldemort did not let go of her mouth until their voices disappeared into the forest.

"They are just Muggles," Hermione said as he sat up and leaned against a tree. "Why are we hiding?"

"You would be surprised if you knew how many spies there are in the world. They could have been from the Ministry of France."

"Merlin, you are paranoid!"

"Says the girl who was sent to kill me!" He got up and out on the path again. "Not that you could have done it."

Hermione followed him, getting quite angry. "Yes, I was sent to kill you, there is a war going on! I am not the only one who wants you dead!"

"So that is why you aren't trying to break the Contract, you think you will get an opportunity!" He sounded quite angry as well.

"If there was a way out of the Contract, Dumbledore would have thought of it!" she was screaming now. "I hate being married to you."

"From where I'm standing, it looks like I got the short end of the stick while you get to benefit from everything I have to offer!" He yelled back.

"LIKE WHAT?" She was so angry she was crying.

"OH, LIKE EXPENSIVE DRESSES, A NEW HAIRSTYLE, ACCESS TO ALL MY BELONGINGS AND SEX!" He was standing right in front of her now. His eyes were burning furiously.

"I DIDN'T ASK NOR DO I CARE FOR ANY OF THAT!"

Voldemort opened his mouth to scream something, but closed it again. He sighed. "I was going to say that I could take it all away, but obviously, I can't."

"Because of the Contract?" she asked. Their argument seemed to have reached an anticlimactic ending.

"Of course. Did you think I had grown a conscious?"

She just shook her head. He looked at her strangely.

"What?" she asked.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Nothing… I was just thinking about how I'm going to survive this."

"You don't have to survive," she muttered.

"Comments like that is the reason why I can't let you leave the room," he hissed.

Hermione bit her lip.

"Come on. Let's run again." He took off and she did her best to keep up. For some reason, she didn't think he would stop if she got tired again.

xxx

Stupid little bitch.

Voldemort was fuming as he ran through the forest. She ruined his life! Not only had she taken over his room, now she was ruining things that he enjoyed, like running. He had done it as often as he could before that dreadful night at the Potters. Only with this new body had he finally managed to give his body the strength he wanted.

He would never call it an obsession but when one strives to live forever, taking care of your body is of the utmost importance. He was very careful and protective when it came to his new body. He had always been, for as long as he's had a body worthy of him. He ate healthy and worked out appropriately. He would never dream of drinking alcohol, smoking or taking drugs. He wanted to be in control all the time and he had a phobia against diseases. Not that he would admit it to anyone.

They had been running for approximately another mile when he heard the girl fall behind him. He didn't care. He could pick her up later. He just wanted to be alone so he kept running.

What should he do with her? He was trying so hard to be civilised, but she made it even harder. He didn't even know why he was trying! Perhaps he had just always thought married couple should be civilised with each other. He didn't believe in true love or any of that kind of nonsense. A marriage was more like a partnership. Just look at the Malfoys! Narcissa was a great advantage for Lucius. She always knew everything about everyone and she knew exactly what her husband would need to know. Lucius trusted his wife completely and gave her everything she wanted. It was the same in a lot of other marriages. Giving and taking.

Voldemort had hoped he could use his wife like that. He thought that if he was just civilised, she would help him with the research that he didn't have time for. It was obvious that she knew how to use a book properly.

He sighed and stopped on the path. His anger dissipated. Running was very good for clearing his mind. He turned around and ran back to the girl. He knew he would never be able to trust her (not that he trusted anyone). However, he was a fool if he threw away a resource like her. Only the photo he sent to Potter had been worth it. In some way, he would manage to live with her until she died.

When he found the girl again, she was sitting by the lake with her feet in the water. Her shoes were next to her. When she heard him, she turned toward him. Relief washed over her face.

"I thought you had left me!" she screamed.

He sat down next to her. "You know I can't do that… I have to keep you safe and protected." The displeasure was clear in his voice. "Why are you sitting here?"

"I think I twisted my ankle," she said. "The cold helps against the swelling. And it relieves the pain."

"Did you twist both your ankles?"

"No… I only chafed the other…" she smiled foolishly. "I'm sorry I made you angry."

He sighed. "No, you're not. But I appreciate your attempt to mollify me. Even if it is a bit late, I've already calmed down."

She sighed too. "You are just making me so angry. Why do I have to make all the sacrifices?"

"Because you are married to _me_," he simply said. "You know I can kill everyone you care about if you displease me."

"Right… Perhaps we should just try not to talk?"

"I've already said I don't welcome conversations with you. But it seems like you have too many questions inside that pretty little head of yours to shut up."

She blushed. "Then I will just try to keep to the subject when we talk."

"Excellent." He helped her up and Apparated them back to his room. He healed her ankle and then bandaged it. She would be fine in a couple of hours, so he told her to keep the foot high until then.

He left her with some new books after they ate a small brunch. He was going to have a meeting with his Death Eaters about the Finland affair.

He went through the cold, undecorated halls toward the meeting room. Before becoming their home, the building had been a factory. It was approximately fifty miles north of York and there were virtually no neighbours. He didn't know why anyone would want to build a factory in the middle of nowhere.

They refurnished the offices into small bedrooms, his being the largest one, of course. Other areas became meeting rooms and training rooms. No one bothered to put colour on the walls. Voldemort didn't really care. He liked a little colour and art work, but he was used to living in dreary buildings.

When he opened the door to one of the larger meeting rooms, the stench of burning flesh assaulted his senses. He stepped inside and saw a person on fire. Literally. With the lack of scream, he figured the person was already dead.

"What is this?" he hissed and with a quick wave of his wand, the person turn into a pile of dust. The stench remained.

Everyone in the room froze when they heard him. His minions were wearing their black Death Eater robes, not making the grey room any brighter. The only furniture in the room was a podium. Voldemort went to it and stepped up. He liked to be able to see everyone when he spoke. It made him feel in control.

"Well?" he asked.

Rabastan Lestrange stepped forward. He was a tall dark-haired man with strong arms and legs. The female Death Eaters liked him a lot. Voldemort liked him so long as he did his job. Rabastan had been one of the few survivors from last years meeting with Potter. Since Voldemort didn't have that many left to punish, Rabastan got it quite bad when Voldemort demonstrated his frustration. Voldemort heard that the females complained that Rabastan didn't exercise shirtless anymore. Voldemort knew why.

"My Lord," Rabastan bowed. "There was one Ordermember stationed in Hamina. We managed to get the information we require to deal with the other one. Alecta and Carlow are already there."

"Good. And the Muggle passports?"

"On their way, my Lord."

Voldemort nodded and continued to listen to his Death Eaters. Their work in Africa was going smoothly, they found two new basilisks in Brazil (Voldemort liked working with basilisks as they always followed orders) and new followers kept coming from other parts of Europe. Voldemort would have to take a look at them before he left for Finland.

He ordered Lucius to tell the girl that they would be leaving in an hour before he went to another part of the factory where the new recruits waited. He put on a glamour to disguise his identity.

There were around twenty people in the room and he approached a tall woman in the corner. He asked her name and why she was there. It turned out she travelled from the Netherlands because she thought the Dark Lord was cool.

He arched an eyebrow before he looked down at her application paper. "Well, you are enthusiastic. You are a Healer, correct?"

The woman nodded with a bright smile.

"We could use you. Sometimes Death Eaters become injured. Go through that door and tell them who you are. Someone will give you something to do."

"Wait," the woman said. "Won't I meet… the Dark Lord?"

He could see the hope in her eyes. He tilted his head. Many women had come to him through the ages, looking for a bit of power. He almost always rejected them, but… he fingered his wedding-ring and mentally sighed.

"He is married, you know," he told the woman.

She looked disappointed. "Oh, I hadn't heard. I'm to go through there you said?"

He nodded and the Dutch woman left. For some reason, his eyes fell down to her backside. He shook his head and tried to focus on his job. Why was he suddenly noticing other women? He never did that! It was probably his wife's fault. She had awakened something he had kept under control for over nineteen years! Nevertheless, he wouldn't let her change him. He was stronger than that.

xxx

Hermione stared at the pages of a small diary from 1759. She found it inside a larger book that appeared not to have been opened in years. The diary didn't speak of one Cup but two! Twin cups! Alone, they could make remarkable things and together… together they could do miracles. The writer of the diary claimed to have seen both of them, one in the Nordic lands and one in Brazil. They were made of stone and the writer wrote that they both were adorned inscriptions of runes.

Runes… Hermione put the dairy aside and reached for another book. Where had she read about runes on a cup? She was sure she read it somewhere! She was also sure that the Cup had been able to make food out of thin air, something you couldn't do with just ordinary magic. She was sure she read it…

She was interrupted when the door opened. She looked up and saw Lucius Malfoy standing there. He bowed with a mocking smiled on his face.

"Missus, what a lovely new haircut," he said.

"Er… thanks…" Hermione got up from behind the desk. "What are you doing here?"

Malfoy smiled. "The Dark Lord sent me here to inform you that you'll be leaving in an hour. You are to dress in Muggle clothing."

Hermione arched her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yes." He bowed again and left.

Hermione stared at the closed door. She better do what Malfoy said. If he lied, she would just tell Voldemort the truth and then Malfoy would be punished. She didn't care about that. After a quick shower, she put on a simple pair of pants and a t-shirt. It was still quite warm outside. She was combing her wet hair when her husband stormed through the door. She arched an eyebrow when he stopped in the middle of the room.

"Get up," he hissed.

"Lucius said I would be wearing Muggle clothing," she said with an uncertain look on her face and did as he commanded.

"I know, I told him. Turn around."

She did and stopped with her back at him. "What are you… ah!" She jumped when she felt his hand groping her arse.

"What would you say if I brought another woman to my bed?"

She frowned and tried to get away from him but he held a firmer grip of her backside and shoulder.

"Hm… perhaps, where shall I sleep?"

"You wouldn't mind?"

Hermione thought about it. "No, not really… I don't even like you, why should I be jealous?"

"If you touch another man, I would kill him," Voldemort said and finally let go of her.

Hermione turned around and looked at him with a puzzled face. "Okay… so if I tell you I made a move on Malfoy…"

"What?"

Hermione couldn't help but to smirk. She just found a way to kill off some Death Eaters. The only problem was the guilt she would probably feel.

"No, I didn't. Merlin, its Malfoy! I despise that family more than I hate you."

"Good."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Isn't it irritating to be jealous all the time?"

"I'm not jealous!" he hissed.

"Okay…"

He sneered at her and went to the wardrobe. He pulled out a backpack. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Um… am I allowed to bring anything?"

"I have already packed for you."

Hermione wondered if she should complain about it, but he was already in a foul mood so she just nodded.

"Good, only the glamour remains." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. Hermione felt a tingling over her body as the glamour took hold. When he was done with her, he changed himself. She looked at her now very blond husband with deep blue eyes. He was not as thin as he was before and his face was a bit rounder and nicer.

She looked down at her own body and the first thing she noticed was the hair. She was as blond as him and her breasts were much larger.

"Very funny," she huffed. "Why can't I have my normal breast-size?"

"Because I don't want anyone to guess who you are," he said with a smirk.

"Men," she muttered under her breath as he made a gesture for her to follow him out. They didn't go far. They went through a long dark corridor before he opened another door and led her out to a balcony. Her eyes fell on the brooms.

"Fly? Are we going to fly?" she asked horrified. She wasn't that scared of heights, she just didn't trust brooms.

"Yes, but just too Estonia, then we are going to take a boat over to Finland."

"Why? Why can't we just Apparate?"

"Because magic can be tracked," he said with a voice that told her his patience was running low.

She bit her lip as she looked from the broom to the clear sky. It was warm, but the wind blew hard. She had never been a good flier…

Voldemort cursed. "Fine, you can ride in front of me."

She didn't know if she should be relieved or not. Could he push her off the broom? Hopefully, he could not.

He didn't give her a chance to finish her thought because he swept her up in front of him and took off into the blue sky. She screamed in surprise. Voldemort chuckled. Sadist. Hermione tried to calm herself, but she was secretly thankful Voldemort kept one arm around her waist. She placed one hand on the broom and the other on his arm and tried not to look down. She tried to focus on something else. His chest was warm against her back. Why hadn't she put on more clothes? She was freezing! It wouldn't surprise her if she caught a cold. That would just make this marriage so much better.

Her thoughts wandered. Was he really disappointed with her body? She knew Ron's brothers talked about women with "big boobs", and as she matured, she was upset because she wasn't growing big breasts like Ginny. Thankfully, she came to terms with it a long time ago. There was a war going on! That was much more important than the size of her breasts.

"How long will this take?" she asked.

"The flying?" he asked in a smug voice. "It depends… would you like to take a trip over the Alps?"

"No!"

"Suit yourself. But it will still take about an hour."

Hermione groaned and tried to hide underneath her husband. "Could you place a warming spell on me, please?"

He sighed, but did. It looked like politeness did pay off. Suddenly, she couldn't feel the cold at all. If she could just relax her body as well… Her knees were tightly pressed together and the wood was painful between her legs. Weren't these things supposed to have Cushioning charms?

Voldemort seemed to notice her tenseness. He moved one hand over her leg. "Relax, and find the balance. Straighten your back."

She took a deep breath and did what he said. She straightened her back, but it didn't work.

"You are hopeless," he said with a sigh and moved his hand back to her waist again.

They flew over the ocean now. Hermione could see land at the horizon. They were moving very fast. Voldemort didn't say anything. The journey soon got boring and the most interesting thing that happened was when Voldemort shifted and squeezed her waist tighter.

After half an hour, Hermione wasn't scared at all and she was debating with herself if she should try to start a conversation with him or not.

"A Knut for your thoughts?" she finally asked.

"What did I say about the constant talking?" he asked calmly.

"I'll not talk unless you want me too," she repeated. "But if you don't want to talk to me, you should let me talk with someone else."

"And why is that?"

"I'm a social person! I like communicating with others!"

He sighed and shifted again. The hand that was on the broom moved closer to her and stopped between her thighs. He was stretching out his back.

"Well, then you should treasure the talks I grant you."

She huffed. "You are so full of yourself, you know that?"

He chuckled against her ear. "I know."

Hermione sighed and was quiet for the rest of the journey. She guessed Voldemort had put an invisibility-charm on them, because he went in for a landing at a beach that was full of people And no one noticed them. Voldemort shrank the broom and put it in his backpack.

"We will pretend to be Muggles," he said as they walked toward the boats which were moored a couple of hundred yards away. "We will be staying in a Muggle hotel in the centre of Hamina. If anyone asks, we are on our honeymoon." And to mark his words, he gripped her hand and she felt a tingle of magic that told her they were now visible.

"Honeymoon?" she asked surprised. "Why honeymoon?"

"Because we will not be expected to come down for breakfast and people won't be surprised if we appear to spend all of our time in our room. I don't wish to socialise with Muggles more than necessary."

"Okay… So what will I do when you are out doing… what ever it is that you do as Dark Lord?"

They reached the boats and Voldemort paid for their ride over to the Tervasaari harbour. The boat wasn't big and there weren't many other travellers. Voldemort found them seats at the back of the boat. He placed his arm around to convey how very much in love they were. It only made Hermione uncomfortable.

"So, what will I do?" she asked again.

"You will be staying at the room I suppose…" He was looking at the other travellers and nodded to himself.

"Oh, how fun," Hermione muttered. "Do you know these people?"

"Of course. They are all my Death Eaters. Do you really think I would travel with common Muggles? However, they won't bother us." He added with a smile. "The captain and his assistants are the only Muggles."

Hermione sighed and tried to pull away from him, but he kept her still. She mentally groaned. The boat started to move.

It was a good thing that she didn't get seasick, because the waves were very high this afternoon. She wondered what time it was. Thankfully, Voldemort let her wander off on her own once the boat left the harbour. She got something to eat and used the bathroom.

Voldemort was talking to one of the Death Eaters when she returned. She didn't hear what they were saying because they were whispering. The Death Eater left just a moment later and Voldemort turned to her. He gave her a passport. She opened it.

"Kira Smith?" She stared at the paper in disbelief. "What am I? A dog?"

He just chuckled.

"And what is your name, Mr Smith?" she asked.

"Seth," he said.

"Seth Smith." She looked at him and shrugged. "Well, I guess that's a name too"

"Yes. Oh, and before I forget…" He pulled out a small box from his backpack. When he opened the box, she saw a small diamond ring inside. "That Ministry ring is so boring…"

He took her left hand and placed the ring on her finger. The new ring absorbed the magic of the Ministry ring and a moment later, the Ministry ring disappeared. She had read that would happen, but she never thought Voldemort would buy her a real ring.

She looked at it closer. "It's beautiful. Is it white jade?"

He nodded and took out another box. "If you would do me the honour?"

She opened the box and found a similar ring, sans diamonds. He held out his hand and when she placed it on his finger, his ministry ring disappeared as well.

"It must have cost you a fortune," she said.

"Not really," he said with a smirk. "I wanted us to have real rings… for appearance sake."

"Of course…," she mumbled. For the rest of the journey, she couldn't help but to glance at the ring and the diamond that was sparkling in the sun.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello! This chapter contains smut! And I have censored parts of it. Those of you who are off age may go to adultfanfiction . net and read the whole chapter. I don't know if I needed to censor it, but I did. But there are still some smut in this so have fun!

Miya

* * *

Chapter 6

Hermione and Voldemort arrived at the hotel at dusk after eating dinner at a small restaurant near the harbour. Voldemort hired a taxi to take them from the harbour to the hotel. Some Death Eaters would be staying there as well, but they wouldn't be arriving all at the same time. That would look too suspicious.

By the time they arrived at the hotel, Hermione was tired. She'd had a long day. First the running in the forest, the flying, then the boat ride... and all that with her cranky husband. It was no wonder she just felt like sleeping. She hardly listened when Voldemort talked to the receptionist and retrieved the room key.

The room was cosy enough. The colours were green, blue and brown and the room had all things you could expect to see in a hotel room. Voldemort placed his backpack on the blue sofa and muttered something about the bathroom. Hermione undressed and went straight to bed. Sleep claimed her the moment her head touched the pillow. She woke up in the early morning hours as Voldemort climbed into bed. She thought about asking him where he had been, but she fell asleep again only giving a quick thought to what he had been doing while she slept.

The next time she woke up, it was almost eight and she felt well rested. Voldemort was still asleep next to her. His glamour had disappeared and he looked like himself again. He had an arm over his face and the blanket around his waist. Hermione fingered her wedding ring. Many people probably found her husband very attractive. Now that he was asleep, Hermione could really see why.

His body was fit. He was thin, but strong. He had a small patch of hair in the middle of his chest that she found appealing. She looked at his face. Although she could only see his mouth, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Not that she had any warm feelings toward him. It was just that he had never kissed her on the lips. She knew he didn't like to be touched, but what was wrong with a couple of kisses during sex?

He was so distant and it annoyed her to know so little about him. He never told her anything about himself. The only thing she really knew was that he was a control freak and obsessed with the condition of his body. She noticed that he was very strict about his diet the few times they had eaten together.

He was like that a puzzle for her to figure out. Perhaps that was why she provoked him. She wanted to know how he would react. He wasn't like other wizards…

So what would happen if she kissed him? She was quiet certain he would get angry, but what would he do? He wouldn't kill a Muggle just because she wanted to kiss her husband, would he?

She found herself moving closer to him. She had only kissed three other boys in her life. Victor, at the ball, Ron a couple of times, and Harry like a friend. Ron was the only one she had been in love with. What most intrigued her was wondering what it would be like to kiss the most dangerous man alive?

Hermione had always wanted to know everything. It sometimes made her do stupid things. Like that time she created Polyjuice Potion and accidentally turned into a cat. Everything else, thankfully, had gone according to the plan.

Without further thought, she bent her head and kissed him. Her lips came in contact with his and she nibbled his lower lip lightly and was very surprised when he responded. His tongue came out and licked her lip. She moved her mouth a little so she could meet his tongue with hers. She had just begun to really enjoy the kiss when he woke up.

The change was drastic. He bit her tongue so hard she could taste blood. Then he let go of her tongue and moved on top of her, straddling her, while he wrapped his hands around her neck. He was strangling her. She tried to scream.

It ended as soon as it had started. He let out a hiss and let go of her. She guessed the Contract must have kicked in when he recognised her.

"WHAT IN FUCKING SALAZAR'S NAME ARE YOU DOING?" he roared. His anger evident in his gaze. A the moment, he looked every bit The Dark Lord and she was scared.

Hermione tried to talk, but her tongue had started to swell and she couldn't speak. He looked at her with hatred in his eyes, but got his wand and instead of cursing her, he healed her.

"Well?" he hissed.

She was sobbing. "I-I j-just w-wanted to k-kiss you."

"Why would you want to do such a thing?"

She tried to stop sobbing before she answered, but he looked ready to murder her, she was sobbing more out of terror than of pain. She took a couple of deep breaths.

"I w-was just c-curious."

He lifted his arm, probably to hit her, but flinched when the power of the Contract hit him again. He hissed and stroked her cheek painfully instead. His thumb stopped at her lips.

"I don't kiss," he said slowly and emphatically as he pressed his thumb against her lips. She guessed that was as much as he could do without really hurting her. "Kisses indicate that there are feelings involved."

She blinked.

"Do you have feelings for me?" he asked and let his hand wander to her hair instead. He tugged it when she didn't answer directly. "Do you?"

"I hate you," she whispered and trembled at her own impudence.

He tilted his head, looking confused for a moment. Then he sighed. The anger disappeared from his eyes.

"Then you do have feelings for me…"

Hermione frowned. "Don't you hate me?"

"I'm annoyed with you. You haven't done anything yet to make me hate you. I only hate this situation."

Hermione couldn't help but feel a little hurt. Did she really have stronger feelings for him than he had for her? That was… disturbing.

"But you would kill me if you could?" she asked.

"Of course!" he said with a smile. He was still straddling her, but now he leaned down. "Now, what did you think would happen when you kissed me?"

Hermione could feel a blush creeping up. "I… I'm not sure. I just thought… I mean… we have had sex but… I always thought kissing was… you know…"

He chuckled. "So it wasn't because you're horny?"

"NO!"

"Really?" he asked teasingly. His thumb was stroking the sides of her face now.

"I… I just wanted to touch you, I guess. Why don't you like touching?"

His eyes got hard again. "I just don't."

She bit her lip. "Did… did something happen to you…?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Did something happen to me, when?"

"I don't know. I just wonder why you are like how you are."

Now he looked amused. "Oh, are you expecting some sad story about how I was abused as a child and swore to kill all Muggles?"

"No," she mumbled. "Hm… were you?"

"Abused? Not more than the other children at the orphanage. All children were spanked." One of his hands wandered down to her body and started to caress her breast. "Do you want to have sex?"

Her heart had already started to beat faster and she could feel a small ache between her legs. "If you tell me more about yourself."

He smirked. "You know how to negotiate, girl."

She smirked back. "Will you?"

He straightened a bit but remained on his knees. The blanket fell off him and she could see his semi-erected cock. She hadn't seen it this close before. She had nothing to compare it too, but she guessed it looked like a normal penis.

"What do you want to know?" he said and positioned her until she was standing on all fours.

She trembled a little when she felt his hand stroke the inside of her thighs. "Why did you start to deal with Dark Arts?"

His hand came up to her core. "Have you ever thought about the possibility that you are a little… masochistic?" he asked teasingly.

"No… Why?"

He scratched her backside and she shuddered. "You are obviously very aroused."

"Perhaps you are just good." Or getting better, she added in her thoughts.

He smacked her arse jokingly. "You are flattering me."

She smiled and closed her eyes. She liked this playful side of him. Why he was behaving playfully, she didn't know. His hands caressed the sides of her body. His lips touched her back.

"Will you answer my question?" she asked with a shutter.

He tugged her nipples. "It was power… powers that most people are too afraid to possess. I was never afraid. The Dark Arts have always been a part of me. Since I couldn't learn it at Hogwarts, I studied it myself. I have always been eager to learn."

He teased her clit and Hermione couldn't help but to moan.

"Stay," he said.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly and tried to look around.

"Lay down." He sounded amused.

She did. Her whole body seemed to be one fire and she was shaking from anticipation. She looked up in time to see him crawling back into bed with a black velvet band in his hand. He took her hands and tied them together with the band.

"What are you doing?" she asked when he started to place feather light kisses on her body.

"Dark Arts, like any other magic, is about control," he mumbled. "It is just harder to control than ordinary magic. It's very… seducing."

Hermione was trembling and sweating. They only had sex twice before, but in some way, he managed to make each time very different. His mouth worked its magic over her body. He reached her breasts and slowly licked and sucked her nipples.

"Let's see how you can handle seduction." His voice vibrated through her chest. "If you can control yourself and not utter one sound I will let you let leave the room during daytime… without me."

Hermione swallowed but nodded. It would be worth it.

xxx

Voldemort smiled when the girl gave him her answer. He had been angry when she kissed him, but he would avenge that now. The girl may not understand, but he was a master of many kinds of torture.

Sexual torture would not cause a life-threatening situation, and it he would be certain not to leave any scares, but he would have her screaming in no time. She was at his mercy. Just the way he wanted her to be.

For the next thirty minutes he teased her in any way he could. She managed to stay quiet as he whispered about Dark Arts, death and destruction. He didn't know if he heard her, perhaps she was too focused on the pleasure. And the pain. He was good at balancing those two things. She would be a sobbing mess before this was over.

"I have to confess," he whispered as he pushed in and out of her. "I like you like this, quiet and obeying. I never thought I would ever enjoy sex like this again. For what it's worth, I will never be with anyone but you for as long as we are married. And if you play nice, I will reward you." He stroked her breast. "I could let you touch me and…"

His lips were just next to hers. He was quite surprised over himself for what he was about to do … he kissed her. His tongue invaded her mouth at the same time as he pinched her between the legs.

He swallowed her screams. He smiled in triumph and let himself come deep inside her. She was panting and openly crying when he finally let go of her mouth.

"You are evil," she gasped. Blood was running from the corner or her mouth. She must have bitten herself so she wouldn't scream before.

"I know, dear," he said and stroked her face. "But I can be nice. You have given me great entertainment this morning. I will let you go out and visit the city. But you will be accompanied by one of my Death Eaters."

She groaned but nodded. He kissed her forehead and went to take a shower. You got sweaty when you were married.

xxx

He left her with her hands still tied. She made a weak attempt to free herself, but she couldn't. For a moment she wondered if he had been a boy scout when he was younger. She laughed out loud when the weird thought crossed her mind.

Her laugh changed into sobs. Suddenly, she felt dirty and used. He just played with her. He knew she wouldn't make it. He was too fucking good when he wanted to be. Not to mention that he played dirty. The only reason she screamed was because he hurt her. Pinching her clitoris between his fingernails was painful, but it obviously wouldn't cause her any lasting damage since the Contract had allowed it. However, she was certain she would be in terrible pain the entire day. That bastard.

Still tied, she found the strength to roll out off bed and go to the bathroom. She felt sick and her body was sore. The bathroom door was locked, so she raised her tied hands and knocked. Merlin, she was dizzy. Perhaps she should have eaten something before she got the horrible idea of kissing him. She had wanted to know what would happen… well, now she knew.

He opened the door at the same time her stomached chose to turn inside out.

"Very charming," he muttered and looked down at his feet, now covered with bile.

She shuddered, almost expecting him to hit her. "Sorry…"

"Well, I have had internals at my feet before…" He helped her inside and untied her hands.

Surprised and thankful for his sudden help, she entered the bathroom to clean her mouth and shower. While she was taking care of herself, he cleaned up her mess from the floor with his wand. When she was done, she left the bathroom and found him dressed and reading a newspaper.

"I've ordered breakfast," he said. He seemed to be in a very good mood. Hermione glared at him. "If you want to go shopping, knock on the door to room 343. I will know if you have left the hotel alone. I wish you not to speak with anyone about what I have said or done to you."

Hermione felt the tingle of magic. She had to do what he wished. He placed the same glamours as yesterday on them before he left the room. Now that he was gone, she found it easier to think. Somehow, she had to warn the Order that he was here. Not only for their sake, but for her own. She had to feel like she was of some use to them. The only question was how to contact them. She couldn't do it from her room, and she would be accompanied by a Death Eater all day.

There was a knock on the door and when she opened it, she saw a young woman standing there with a tray of food. She wore a happy smile on her round face. Hermione felt her stomach rumble from hunger and she let her in.

"Bon appétit," the woman said and then she… waited.

Hermione realised the girl was expecting a tip. She searched to room quickly and found a wallet in Voldemort backpack. After giving the girl twenty Finish marks (she hoped that was enough) she was finally able to enjoy her breakfast.

She sank down behind a desk and started to eat. It still ached between her legs, but she tried not to think of it. A Finish newspaper was lying next to the tray. Hermione couldn't understand any of the long words, so she just looked at the pictures.

She finished her breakfast and placed the newspaper on the desk. Her eyes fell on a bunch of postcards lying on the desk with pictures of the Hotel and the city. A plan started to form in her head. If she could send a postcard to the Order, they would know where he was!

But who would she send it too? Mrs Weasley had once told her that she doubted any mail carrier would know where their house was. She figured it was the same with all the others wizards she knew. Unless…

She remembered a conversation she had had with Colin Creevey about being a Muggleborn and coming to Hogwarts. He said that he didn't think there were any other wizards or witches in the little village he lived in. His father worked as a milkman in York and they lived outside of it in a small village named… named… She had it on the tip of her tongue! It had sounded so funny when Colin had said it! It reminded her of the tea Lipton…

Hermione took a deep breath and tried to recall their conversation. She had tried to get away because she was late for class… He had asked her if she would like to visit him in… Shipton! She got it! Shipton, North Yorkshire.

She found a pencil in the desk and wrote it down. How many Creevey's in Shipton could there be? She had no idea what the rest of the address was anyway, so she just wrote the things she knew.

Now she had to think of what she should write. If someone asked about the card, she wanted it to look harmless. Dumbledore would be clever enough to understand any hidden meanings.

After a while she wrote; _Please send this postcard to Hogwarts as well! I'm on my honeymoon, but my husband is always away on business at the Market. Love, Mrs Smith nee Granger. _She didn't want Colin to freak out when he got the letter, so she didn't write down Voldemort's name. There was a chance Colin didn't know whom she was married to. Hopefully, Colin would send it to Dumbledore as fast as he could. Although, it would probably take around a week before the postcard reached Colin.

She felt much more hopeful now than she had the entire week. The only thing she needed to do now was to buy a stamp and put the card in the mailbox without her Death Eater escort noticing. That would be hard. Perhaps it was best to leave as soon as possible.

She took Voldemort's wallet and left the room. Since she still wasn't allowed to wear knickers, she cursed Voldemort with every step she took. The jeans were very painful against her already aching core. A couple of minutes later she found room 343 and knocked. A tall boy with brown hair opened the door.

"Yes?"

Hermione had to snort. Even if she didn't recognise him; there was only one boy she knew who talked so snobby.

"Malfoy?" she asked.

He arched his eyebrows. "Granger?"

"Or something," she muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but in reality she was very excited because Draco Malfoy knew nothing about Muggles! It would be so easy to fool him! "I want to have a look in town."

Another brunette came to the door. He looked like an older duplicate of Draco, so Hermione guessed he was Lucius.

"Mrs… Smith," Lucius said with a smile. "My son will be more than happy to accompany you." Lucius pushed Draco outside the door and closed it.

Hermione walked toward the elevator. She did not want to go down the stairs in her condition. Perhaps she should have put on a skirt instead.

"You are walking a little funny, Mrs Smith," Draco said as he approached her.

"And?" she pressed the button to call the elevator.

"Oh, nothing," he said smugly.

The doors opened and Hermione stepped inside with Draco behind her. When the elevator started to descend, Draco froze.

"What's happening?" he asked, sounding terrified.

Hermione smirked. "Muggle magic."

Draco tried to glare, but he looked more scared than dangerous. She wondered if she should try to pull Voldemort into the elevator and see what he would do… She shuddered when she remembered how he had reacted to her kiss. Perhaps not.

When they arrived at street level, Draco calmed down. She looked around to try and decide where she would go. She could see an empty square a couple of hundred meters to her right. A couple of stores were in the vicinity. She started to walk toward what looked to be a grocery store. Her body still hurt a little. Stupid Voldemort. Did he have to pinch her just because she wanted to kiss him? What was wrong with kissing your husband? Did he have to make her feel so used?

"Does he fuck you a lot?" Draco suddenly asked.

Hermione looked at him, surprised and annoyed. "It's none of your business."

"Oh, come on, Smith," he said. "I bet you married him just so you would get some. I mean since Weasel died, who would want to touch yo…"

She knew it was stupid. They were in the middle of a street and there were a lot of people around. But her pussy was aching, she had always hated Malfoy and she always got angry and sad when someone mentioned Ron.

So, she hit the irritating ferret hard on his nose. The boy groaned, but Hermione continued to hit… and hit, and hit. After the second punch, Draco started to hit her as well, but she couldn't feel the pain. All she knew was that she wanted to injure the smug boy so much that his own father wouldn't recognise him. If he could only be Voldemort…

"Rauhoitu!" someone yelled and pulled her backward, away from Draco.

Draco managed to hit her one more time on her chest before someone grabbed him as well.

Hermione's head was spinning and she could feel blood running from her lip and eyebrow. A shadow fell over her.

"Kuka hän on?" a stern male voice asked.

The man who held her answered something. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to make the spinning go away. When she opened her eyes again, she could see more clearly. A tall man with a blue uniform with the word "poliisi" was standing in front of her. She didn't have to be the cleverest witch of her age to understand that it was a police officer. Oh… this wasn't good… The only bright side was that they hadn't used magic.

"Get off me you stupid Muggle!"

She would just pretend she didn't know him. She could see how Draco was forced into a police car. Oh, this would be interesting. If he had been scared in the elevator, how scared would he be when the car started to move? She smirked, feeling a dark satisfaction.

Someone placed a towel against her bleeding eyebrow before they led her to another car. She stepped inside without a word and wondered if they would travel far. A female police officer tried to ask her something.

"I'm sorry," Hermione mumbled with a weak smile. "English."

"Ah, Englantalainen," the woman said and nodded. "I not good English."

Hermione smiled again. "That's okay; I can't speak a word of Finish."

The woman laughed and said something to the man who was driving. He nodded and answered. Hermione didn't listen. She started to worry about what Voldemort would do when he found out. He wouldn't kill the Muggles, would he? No… He would probably make _her_ kill them. She remembered what he had said to her just this morning about killing people… Oh, Merlin. Suddenly she felt very stupid. What had made her loose her temper like that?

The ride to the police station wasn't long. When they arrived, the female police officer led her to a small interrogation room where Hermione sat down at a small table.

"Water?" the police officer asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes please."

She gave her the glass of water and Hermione drank it.

"More?"

Hermione nodded again.

When the police officer returned, Hermione suddenly remembered the postcard. She held it out. The woman looked at her, clearly puzzled.

"It's for my grandfather," Hermione lied.

The woman nodded slowly and took the postcard.

"Do you think you could mail it?" she asked. "He'll be so worried if he doesn't get it."

"Sorry, no," the woman said. "Wait." She gave back the postcard to Hermione.

Hermione sighed and the woman left. Hermione looked around the room. The door had a window and she could see a white corridor beyond it. There was nothing else in the room besides the table and the two chairs. The bleeding had almost stopped so she removed the towel from her head. Her chest and left arm were throbbing, like the side of her face. She wondered what she looked like.

After almost half an hour, a young red-haired police officer stepped into the room. He was short and had quite a big nose with freckles. He smiled at her and sat down in the opposite chair.

"I'm inspector Lehinen," he spook with a Finish accent that Hermione couldn't help but to think was cute. "How are you feeling?"

"Not so bad," she said honestly.

"Good. Do you have a passport or some identification?" He had placed a writing pad on the table and had a pencil in his left hand prepared to take notes.

She shook her head. "Not with me, I was just going down to buy a stamp and post this postcard to my grandfather."

He nodded. "Your name?"

"Kira Smith. My husband, Seth Smith, and I are here on our honeymoon. We are staying at Hotel Hamina."

"How nice. Could you tell me what happened?"

"Well, my husband left earlier this morning to take care of some business. I decided to write to my grandfather. My husband and my grandfather don't like each other, so I didn't want to get into an argument about something silly as a postcard… Ah, but that's not important." Hermione blushed a little. "I left my room and met that boy in the elevator. Since we were both English, we started to talk. But when we got out on the street he started to ask inappropriate questions about what my husband and I had done…well… last night."

The inspector just nodded and wrote something down on his pad.

Hermione took a deep breath. She had known she was good at lying, but she didn't like to lie to a policeman. "Well… I didn't like what he was saying so I turned around to push him away… I hadn't aimed at the nose. But well… he got angry and started to hit me as well. I didn't know what to do… I got scared and… It's all quite blurry."

"Understandable. Would you like to call your husband?" he asked.

"I don't have the number to where he is. Or to the hotel."

He sighed. "We have to keep you here until we get your passport. We will call the hotel and leave a message for your husband. Since you and the other man aren't Finish, we will send the report to British law enforcement. They will need to know if you or the other young man want to press charges. The only thing you will have to do with us is pay a fine of 1000 Finish marks."

Hermione took her wallet. "I think I can pay it now, if you want."

"No, we will wait until your husband gets here with the passports. Are you hungry?"

Hermione shook her head. She was not hungry but nervous as hell. With all the butterflies in her stomach, she didn't think she would eat for days.

"Anything else?"

Hermione took up the postcard again. "If it wouldn't be any trouble, I would really want to post this postcard. My grandfather always gets so worried when he doesn't hear form me."

He took it. "Of course, Madam. We will have to place you in a holding cell until your husband can come and confirm your identity. We will release you once we have seen your passport."

She was relieved when he disappeared with the postcard. As long as Dumbledore got that postcard, this would all be worth it.


	7. Chapter 7

Yay! Another long chapter! Enjoy!

Warning; Contains some very dark/depressing/disgusting scenes!

* * *

Chapter 7

Voldemort returned to the hotel around seven that evening. His good mood from the morning had disappeared. Things didn't go as smoothly as he wished it would. The Finns were a very stubborn people. All he wanted to do was take control over the shipping on the Gulf of Finland. A lot of magical artefacts were traded there. He merely wanted to see all the artefacts and take those he wanted before any one else had the chance. One could stumble over some really powerful objects in this area.

However, the Finns hadn't been interested. It looked like he was going to stay here for a while. All he wanted to do now was take the girl out for a nice meal and then read a good book before going to bed. He would have to get up early the next morning.

"Excuse me, Mr Smith." He turned around when the receptionist called for him.

"Yes?" he asked and faked a smile. He had always been a very good actor.

"The police called. They want you to take you and your wife's passports down to the station."

"What?" he roared.

The receptionist flinched a little. Voldemort took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I'll go."

Voldemort hurried up to their room to get the passports. Fifteen minutes later, he was down at the station. After another half an hour, he was allowed to get his wife out of the holding cell. He stared at her when the policeman opened the door. Her lip was swollen and red, she had a black eye and he could see bruises on her arms. He didn't know if he should laugh or be angry.

He really wanted to curse someone, but since there were Muggles around and he didn't want to be exposed as a wizard, he played the role of a caring husband.

"Oh, sweetie," he said and hugged her. The girl just sighed. "Who did this to you?"

"He was so mean!" the girl said and faked a sob. He noticed that it was fake because she didn't sound like she usually did when she was cried, but others would not notice. "I didn't know what to do!"

"Let's go home and get you cleaned up. Then we can get you something to eat." Still hugging her, they left the building in each other's embrace. When they were out of sight, he grabbed her as painfully as the Contract would allow, "What the hell do you think you were doing?" he hissed.

"It wasn't my fault," she hissed back and tried to get loose. "Malfoy was the one who started it! He insulted me!"

Voldemort sneered. "He is a pureblood, you are a Mudblood; of course he insults you! What did he say?"

"He thought I actually wanted to marry you because no one else would touch me!"

He smirked. "Well, he was right about the last part. No on else had touched you before I did."

"You iniquitous bastard!" she spat and broke free. She hurried toward the hotel but he caught up with her, grabbed her, and lifted her off the ground.

"Let me go!" she yelled.

"Not until you have calmed down," he hissed and shook her. "When we get back to the hotel, we will give the impression of happy newlyweds so stop struggling!"

She didn't.

"I wish you to stop struggling," he ordered.

She did.

"Good," he put her down. "Now, I can't heal you, because that would look suspicious. You won't leave the room anymore. If someone asks, you'll just tell them you are embarrassed of your injured face."

"Oh! So just because your minion can't keep his thoughts to himself, I'm grounded?"

"I'll talk to Draco as well, but you were the one who started the fight. Why did you do that? You are a girl!" He didn't really mean the last part. He knew girls could be aggressive. He had received his fair share of slaps and blows in his days. However, he didn't really see his wife as the aggressive type.

"If I could, I would put a razor up your arse and pick your bloody eyes out!"

He shook his head, unimpressed. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

She stared at him. Then she growled, "You are…" She clenched her fits and growled again. Instead of finishing her thought, she turned around and began walking with long purposeful strides.

"I wish for you to calm down," he called after her.

She stopped. He came up to her. She looked at him with foggy eyes. He sighed, took her hand and led her back to the hotel. He was still angry, but he would take it out on her another way. This time, he wanted her to really beg for his forgiveness.

xxx

They didn't talk to each other for the rest of the week. Hermione stayed in the room and Voldemort would leave early every morning and come back late every night. A Death Eater would come by three times every day with food. If the people who worked at the hotel thought it was strange, they didn't say anything. The housekeeper who cleaned the room every day would look at her with sympathetic eyes, never saying anything. Hermione guessed she didn't speak English.

On the second day of confinement, Hermione was bored. Her face was still throbbing from her injuries, but not as much as it had done the day before. She started to do some physical exercises. Remus Lupin had taught her a lot of exercises she could do independently to keep fit. It was a mix of ordinary push-ups and sit-ups, Pilate, yoga and a variety of Asian fighting styles. She was annoyed that no one could teach her any new moves, but she practiced until her body ached. It was better than just looking out the window.

Voldemort hadn't given her any books, so when she was too tired to work out, she watched TV. First she thought she would find only Finish programmes, but she quickly found shows and films in English. They always had Finish subtitles, but she was happy she could watch something she understood.

At the end of the week, she tried to break out from the room. Her face looked much better and she figured she could sneak out and then return without anyone noticing. Unfortunately, the door was warded. Every time she tried to open it, she would bounce back into the room again. It bugged her to no end.

It was the middle of their second week in Hamina, and their third week as a married couple, when something finally happened. Hermione had been watching a new action series about some super heroine (oh, why couldn't she kick Voldemort's arse like that super girl kicked all those bad guys' arses?) when the door flew open.

"We are leaving," Voldemort hissed and waved his wand to gather all their things in his backpack.

"Why?" she asked lazy, without taking her eyes from the screen. If he could ignore her, she could ignore him.

He went to the TV and pressed the "off" button. "Because I say so!"

Hermione turned to him. "Aren't your plans working?"

He put the backpack on his back and gripped her arm.

"What's the hurry, love?" she asked teasingly. "You look like you have Aurors at your back."

"Shut up," he hissed dragged her to the reception area. The man behind the desk looked at them in surprise.

"We want to check out," Voldemort said.

The man nodded and a couple of minutes later, they were out on the street. Hermione frowned when she saw the empty streets. Where were all the people?

"Going somewhere?" a calm, familiar voice asked.

Hermione looked to her right and gasped. Remus Lupin was standing there with almost half the Order! They all had their wands aimed at them. Voldemort pulled out his wand. At the same time, Hermione broke free from him and ran toward Remus. The Order looked very surprised and she realised they didn't recognise her because of the glamour.

"It's me!" she said when she reached them. "Hermione!"

Remus face broke into a smile and he embraced her with his free arm. Hermione was so glad to see him again and glad to be away from Voldemort.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" he asked and gently touched her eye where the bruise was evident even through her glamour.

"I'm fine…," she said and inhaled his calming scent. When her parents disappeared she and Remus had become very close. She saw him as an older brother. She always felt safe with him.

"Do you give up?" Kingsley Shackleblot said to Voldemort.

She turned around just in time to see over twenty Death Eaters Apparate next to Voldemort.

"No," her husband said with a cocky smile. He was still wearing his glamour and the evil smile didn't suit the blond, boyish face. "I could fight you, but I have more pressing matters to deal with. So if you could just give me back my wife?"

Remus tightened his arm around her. "Why should we?"

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Trust me, wolf, if I could get rid of her I would have done it a long time ago."

Hermione sighed against Remus' robes. The air was full of tension. She knew there would be a fight if she didn't return to Voldemort soon. If there was a fight, some of her friends would be injured. She didn't want that. Perhaps if she left now, there wouldn't be a fight.

"He's right," she whispered and gently released herself from Remus' embrace. She kissed his cheek. "Tell Harry I'm okay."

The Order watched, in shock, as Hermione walked back to Voldemort. She could feel a stab in her heart when she saw Voldemort's satisfied smile. How she hated him. When she reached him, he embraced her like Remus had done, but not in Remus' loving way. Voldemort embraced her possessively. His lips touched her forehead and she could feel him smirk against her skin. She closed her eyes and wished to crawl under a blanket and forget about the world.

Then she heard the first spell cast. She had been foolish to believe there wouldn't be a fight. Voldemort shouted an order to his Death Eaters before he Apparated her away. Of course he wouldn't stay for the fight. Why fight when you could have others do it for you? He really was the ultimate coward.

"I wonder," he said softly and stroked her hair. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"To do with what?" she asked, still not opening her eyes. What if Remus or any of the others died? She should have fought with them!

"Letting the Order know where I was." His voice was so fucking calm. How could he be so calm when people were dying out there, because of him?

"How could I have done that?" she muttered. "You had me locked inside our room all the time."

"Well, there was that incident at the police station. You are a clever girl, I'm sure you could come up with something."

She sighed. "Like what?" Her stomach was aching. She wanted to be in Remus' warm, loving arms again. Voldemort's physical body may be warm, but he was as far from loving as you could get.

"Oh, I don't know… like sending a postcard to one of your Mudblood friends?"

Her eyes snapped opened and she stared at him. His eyes were fiery… burning in sadistic joy.

"Didn't you think I would find out? When I heard that the Order found out where I was, I investigated. I went back to the police station and found out that you wanted to send a postcard to your 'grandfather'."

Hermione got a bad feeling. They were standing inside some kind of dungeon. Now, she noticed the stench of something... decaying. He turned her around and she came face to face with three disembodied and decaying heads. Two of which were very familiar.

"No," she whispered. Her mind was trying to ignore what she was seeing. This couldn't be happening. Not because of her! Not again!

He held his arms around her. "I may not have been able to take over Hamina, but at least I got to rid the earth clean of a Mudblood family."

The dead eyes of the Creevey family stared at her. They still looked like they were in pain. Hermione screamed.

xxx

Perhaps he overdid it.

He hadn't been surprised when his wife fainted. Even Death Eaters fainted sometimes. It was just something in their heads that overloaded and they couldn't look anymore. He thought it was a weakness, but not everyone could be as strong as him.

Therefore, he just lifted the girl into his arms and carried her to their new bedroom. When they were in Hamina, he had ordered one of his minions to decorate a larger room for them. This room had more colours (green and silver, he had been nostalgic when he picked them out), a comfortable lounge area with a sofa and two armchairs, a lot of bookshelves with his treasured books, a desk and, of course, a bed. The bed was at one end of the room while the rest of the furniture was at the other end.

He placed her on the bed and left. It wasn't like she could leave the well-warded room. Besides, he had to see what he could save of the Hamina-plan.

He realised something was wrong when, tired and annoyed, he returned the next morning and found her lying in the exact same spot he had left her hours earlier. Her eyes were open but she was completely unresponsive to him.

A quick examination confirmed what his fears, she was in a deep shock. Her mind couldn't deal with the guilt and horror she felt, so it had shut down. He cursed, but let her be. Hopefully, she would come around.

Some hours later the headaches began. Every time he wasn't actively trying to help the girl get better, his mind was attacked by migraines and he felt as if his mind would explode. Nothing else helped against the headache. He tried potions and spells, but the only relief he received was when he was actively helping the girl recover from her shock. It was the Contract's curse. He was obligated to keep her healthy and he had failed. Now he was paying the price.

For the next two weeks he force-fed her, bathed her, helped her to the bathroom and forced her to exercise. It was quite simple. She was still obligated to do everything he wished, so he simply wished it. She did what he wished to keep her healthy but there was no life in her eyes, no fire fighting back. She was just a puppet and he was pulling her strings. Why didn't he relish that?

No, he hated it. He hated her. He hated her for being weak and turning him into some kind of nanny. It had been a long time ago since he hated someone with such a passion. The thing he hated the most was that he could do nothing about it. If he left her alone, the headaches would start again. When he was with her, he had to stare into those empty eyes. It was like a Dementor attacked and stole her soul. No spell or potion he tried helped her either. It seemed to grow deeper than what magic could heal. He must really have broken her.

The nights were the worst. She had nightmares. She was screaming, sobbing and begging. He used silencing spell, but although that worked, she tossed and turned. His body was full of bruises, but he was determined not sleep on the couch. He was Lord fucking Voldemort! He would not leave his own bed!

After a couple of nights, he tied her so she couldn't move. She fought the binds until her wrists and ankles were chafed and bloody. His actions hurt her and his headache returned. So, to get some relief, he untied her again.

When the second week arrived, he began to get desperate. He found himself wandering the streets of London, confused and angry. The continuing headaches made him more murderous than usual. The girl had been asleep when he left her. He had tried to wish her to stop tossing and turning as a result of her nightmares, but it seemed like she didn't have to take orders from him when she was asleep. He needed relief from his headaches and thought it best to travel to London and kill some Muggles. That was what he usually did when he wanted a stress-relief. Some people made puzzles, others exercised, but he killed people. Besides, London was full of unnecessary Muggles.

It was the end of July and his fifth week as a married man. It was a hot night and he noticed a group of teenagers hanging out. He was standing in the shadows, watching a gang smoking, talking and laughing. He noticed a girl with the same hair colour as his wife and a similar build. She laughed at something one of the boys said. Voldemort felt his blood pump with rage. Just this morning, the girl had vomited all over him again. He wanted to smack her, but the Contract forbad him from doing it.

He was about to leave when he saw the brunette get up. She kissed and hugged her friends before she left them. She was swaying a bit. What had they been smoking? He followed her. This girl was a little taller than his wife, but she had the same petite body. In the dark, he could easily pretend her to be his wife. Excellent.

The brunette stopped in the middle of a street. She was looking for something in her purse. No one else was there. In three long strides, he was right upon her. Surprised, she dropped her purse and he dragged her into a nearby alley. He placed a silencing spell over the area so that no one but him would hear the girl scream.

And, oh, how she screamed. He first thought about allowing her to live, but he was out of control imaging her as his wife and he had harmed her so sufficiently that he thought it best to finish the job and kill her. After all, she had begged for death and he was only too happy to oblige. He could be nice when he wanted to. They would have a hard time identifying her body the next morning.

Although he still had his headache, he felt happy and relieved. Now he felt like he could face the girl again. When he returned to his room, the girl was still tossing, turning and sobbing. He stroked her face and she took hold of his hand and whimpered. He lay down next to her and embraced her. For the first night in two weeks, she actually relaxed and he was able to sleep for more than just two hours.

xxx

He thought his gentleness would snap her out of her shock, but it only made her cling to him every time he was near her. He hated it even more than he hated the tossing. She was acting like a little child. She still remained unresponsive in every other way but the clinging. Every time he was near she would lean toward him and hold onto him as if her life depended on it. He hated it and he began to get really desperate.

After consulting his books, he decided that she needed someone she trusted. He guessed she trusted Harry Potter, but Voldemort would be dead before he went to Potter for help. The only other person he knew that the girl trusted was Remus Lupin. Voldemort didn't know much about the werewolf, other than hearing that he was one of the leaders of the Order. How could he convince the werewolf to help him?

He thought about it, and when his wife once again attempted to cuddle him like he was her very own teddy bear, he decided to just kidnap the damn wolf. He was too proud to ask any of his Death Eaters for help. Lord Voldemort didn't have personal problems… especially not with his wife.

Thanks to the continuous clandestine activities of his Death Eaters, he knew where most of the members of the Order were currently located. Lupin was last seen in a small town in Scotland. Voldemort travelled there alone and on only the second night of searching for the wolf, he got lucky.

Remus Lupin had apparently been out to buy some food. It was just a couple of days after the full moon, and he looked tired. His clothes were dirty and baggy and it didn't look like he had washed his hair for days. Voldemort followed him. The wolf walked slowly toward a small house at the end of the village. When there weren't any Muggles around, Voldemort made to attack. Before he reached him, the werewolf turned around with his wand drawn. Voldemort silently cursed.

"What are you doing here?" Lupin asked, clearly very surprised.

"I am about to kidnap you," Voldemort hissed.

"The Order already knows you are here," Lupin said.

"I'm not planning to stay. You will come with me."

"Why?" The wolf was watching him with a puzzled expression.

Voldemort knew how he must look. Desperate and tired. How he hated the girl for making him do this.

"Something has happened to my wife. She needs you. As long as you help her, I won't hurt you." It was a very generous offer, he was desperate after all.

"How can I trust you?" the wolf asked.

"You would be a fool if you did," Voldemort said with a smirk.

Lupin was quiet for a while. "Give me an oath that you won't hurt me."

"Fine. I swear not to hurt Remus Lupin as long as my wife needs help," Voldemort swore. There was a tingle of magic in the air. "Can we go?"

The werewolf nodded and Voldemort took his arm and Apparated them away. His headache felt much better.

xxx

Remus Lupin had several missions in his life. When he first was bitten by Greyback, his mission was to survive. When he was accepted into Hogwarts, his mission was to fit in. In some magical way he managed to make three extraordinary friends. At times, he even had girlfriends! Since then, his mission was to protect his friends.

That mission hadn't gone too well. He had been devastated when Lily, James and Peter died. He had beaten himself up for not being able to do anything. For the next 13 years, he was a very unhappy werewolf.

Then Sirius came back and Remus found out that he still had one friend left. It had been wonderful to find out that he had been wrong about Sirius. He and Sirius lived together after that and Remus swore to protect his friend against… everything. When they heard that Voldemort returned, Remus became worried. Sirius wanted to avenge James and Lily, but Remus only wanted to keep the only remaining friend alive.

After Sirius died, Remus found himself alone… again. It was then that Hermione stepped into his life. He had known her from when he was her teacher, but he soon realized that he hadn't really known her at all. After Sirius died, she found him crying in Sirius' old bedroom. He had been very ashamed. He usually didn't cry. They avoided each other at first. But then, one night, she came up to his room with a book she had found. She didn't understand the runes and shyly asked for his help.

When Ron died, she came to him again. He comforted her as much as he could and when she declared that she wanted to learn how to fight, he had been more than happy to help her. They became very good friends.

Remus had been angry with Dumbledore for allowing her to marry Voldemort. But now it looked like he finally would be able to help her. Perhaps he was stupid to follow Voldemort, but he had to try.

They appeared inside a small office. Remus gave Voldemort all the weapons he had on his person. He was still very suspicious, but Voldemort gave him an oath to return them once Hermione was better.

Remus knew it would be easy for Voldemort to trick him. If Hermione already was well and couldn't get any better, he would never have his wand back. However, he had to believe Voldemort. He couldn't risk it. Even if he knew Voldemort was a consummate liar, the Dark Lord didn't look well.

Voldemort led Remus to another room. The first thing Remus noticed were the sobs. They were coming from a large bed at one end of the room. Expecting the worse, he went towards them.

"She is asleep," Voldemort muttered. "Nightmares."

Remus sat down next to her. The blanket was bunched around her waist and her breasts were exposed. He didn't care. They were friends. She let out a scream of sorrow. It was heartbreaking.

"Hermione?" he asked and took her hand into his. "It's me, Remus."

She slowly opened her eyes. They were wild. He suddenly remembered her DADA examination when he had been her teacher in her third year. She hadn't been able to handle the Boggart. The others laughed when she told them how the Boggart-McGonagall told her that she had failed every subject. They didn't understand. Remus did. Hermione's greatest fear was failure. Whatever Voldemort had done, he must have trigged that fear and now she couldn't cope with it.

He realised it would be a long time before he got his wand back again.


	8. Chapter 8

Happy, happy day! I don't know why, but I'm so freaking happy! YAY! Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

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Chapter 8

It was as if Hermione was living in a fog. Absorbed in her own reality, she was oblivious to anything and everything around her except the severed heads of the Creevey family. She failed them. She should have never have sent them that letter. It was all her fault.

While she still felt herself in a sort of fog, she remembered Remus holding her as she told him about what happened. He held her as she cried over her failure. The guilt was tearing her apart and she was glad Remus was there. He understood.

The next couple of days went by in a blur. She cried a lot. Not only because of the Creeveys, but because of her entire situation. She was trapped. She just couldn't find the spark that made her kick. She felt lost. Remus made her better, but she still didn't feel like herself. Remus tried to help her. They read together, played chess and worked out. He showed her some new moves and she copied them perfectly.

She also started to eat. A lot. She asked Lolly for sweets and candy, and the House-elf was more than happy to be of assistance. Hermione knew they weren't good for her, but she just didn't care anymore. Voldemort wasn't happy about it, but he let her be. Remus just watched her sadly.

Oddly enough, Voldemort was the one who helped her to snap out of it. He hadn't been around much since he brought Remus to her. Not that she minded. When her husband was around, she felt as if something had changed between them. A new tension that she could not identify. When he was around, she felt as if he wanted to rip her head off. Not that she cared really, but it didn't make her feel better.

Hermione and Remus were playing chess when Voldemort stormed into the room.

"Why didn't you tell me you found this?" Voldemort asked angrily wielded a small black book. The diary she found over a month ago.

She shrugged. "I don't know."

He pressed his lips together. "Lupin, leave."

Remus looked at Hermione. "I don't…"

"Do I have to remind you that you are merely a guest in my house?" Voldemort hissed.

Remus sighed and kissed Hermione's cheek before he left. Voldemort made him a room next door to Hermione. She had been there a couple of times and it was not much of a room, only a bed, really, but Remus was seldom there as he thankfully spent most of his time with her.

When the door closed behind Remus, Voldemort placed a silencing spell over the room.

"Well?" he asked as he threw the diary at her. "I found some of your notes. What are you conclusions?"

Hermione stared at the diary. She was… curious. She opened it and reread the section she had marked with a red ribbon.

The cups… Twin cups with runes. She was sure she had read about a cup with runes. Yes, she had… in _A History of Hogwarts_.

"Oh…," she said. Why hadn't she remembered this before? She rose from the armchair and went to the bookshelves. Voldemort owned a copy of her favourite book, she had seen it before.

Voldemort followed her motions with suspicious eyes. She pulled out the book and found the chapter about the four founders. She scanned through the Helga Hufflepuff section where she found what she was looking for, the cup. She nodded as she read it.

"What?" Voldemort asked annoyed when she finally put the book down.

Hermione felt her blood pump faster. She started to feel excited. She had forgotten how good she felt when she was researching.

She summarised the passage, "Helga Hufflepuff travelled around the world when she was young. On her journeys, she found the Cup of Life. She was a Healer and very good with all living things. When she saw the situation witches and wizards were in all over the world, she wanted to help them. She met Godric Gryffindor and they decided to do something about it. However, when Salazar Slytherin joined them, she became worried as she had heard that Slytherin had been looking for it. So, she changed its appearance and made it look like it was made of gold. She also didn't use it in front of others much. However, the Cup was of much use for them because it could bring forth food. Normal magic have never been able to make food out of thin air because…"

He placed his hand over her mouth. "You should become a teacher."

She blushed. She had been married to this evil man for seven weeks. Two of which she spent in shock and the latest two depressed. But now, she felt… eager. Voldemort looked at her amused. He lifted his hand from her mouth.

"So, the only question left is where's the Cup since Hufflepuff's death," he commented.

"I have heard of a book that is supposed to be written by Helga's grandson. Perhaps there is something about it in there?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "I'll try to find it…" He looked down at her. "What are you thinking?"

Hermione blushed even more and looked down at the floor. She didn't want to show how eager and excited she was. She was elated to return back to some normalcy. To figure things out like she always enjoyed doing. It was as if the spark she had been missing returned.

"You know," he said and brushed her hair over her shoulder. "I really hated you when you were out of it. I wanted to kill you."

"Well, now you know how I have felt since I married you."

"Yes. So, I guess we both hate each other then…" His voice was low and his hand was still in her hair. Her skin felt more sensitive than before.

"I guess…"

He leaned in closer, his thumb stroked her sensible lips. "Perhaps I should get rid of the werewolf now…"

"Perhaps WHAT?" She flinched away from him.

He arched an eyebrow. "Well, our agreement was that he should stay here until you get better. Now you are."

"He is my _only_ friend!" She knew Remus had to leave, eventually. The Order needed him. But she couldn't loose him now! Not when she was finally feeling like herself.

He smiled cruelly. "Deal with it."

She pushed him away and stormed toward Remus' room. Remus looked surprised when she stormed in and threw herself around his neck.

"I don't want you to leave!" she said and pressed her head against his chest.

Remus embraced her. She heard Voldemort enter the room behind her.

Remus sighed. "I don't want to leave you either, Hermione, but you know I have to."

"I know…," Hermione mumbled. "But I'm finally feeling like myself again. Can't you stay for the night at least?" She looked up at him with pleading eyes.

He sighed again and looked at her husband. Voldemort came up to them and placed his hands at her hips.

"I guess you want to sleep with him as well," he muttered. Since the day Remus came to her, Hermione had fallen asleep in his arms every night. She needed the safety and the comfort that he offered.

"Yes please," she said.

Voldemort's fingers dug into her hips. "Whom are you married too?"

Remus let go of her. Hermione closed her eyes.

"You," she whispered.

Voldemort placed his arms around her stomach. "With whom should you be sleeping with?"

"You."

"Then why do you need another man?" His voice was calm, but they both knew he already knew the answer.

"Because I hate you and love him." She did love Remus as a friend. There were times when she wondered if there could have ever been something more between them, but he had always been a gentleman with her.

"Well I don't want to sleep with a fat person anyway," he muttered and pushed her away from him.

Hermione blushed angrily at his remark. Although, she was surprised that he hadn't made a rude comment all those times he found her eating cookies. The remark stung a little but she had to remember that this was Voldemort and she hated him anyway. Earlier this morning, she noticed that her tummy was a little bigger and her face a bit rounder. But she hadn't thought that anyone else noticed. Perhaps Voldemort was just being… well, Voldemort!

Voldemort left Remus' room. A moment later, she could hear another door open and shut. He had left their room as well.

"You are not fat," Remus said and embraced her again.

Hermione took a deep breath. "No, I know… But I think better stop eating all those sweets."

Remus led her back to her bedroom. They sat down on the couch. "Well, it's not like sweets will do you any good anyway. They will just destroy your teeth."

"Not if you brush twice a day," Hermione said. Her parents had been dentist, but it hadn't stopped them from eating candy once in a while. Everything in moderation they always told her.

As Remus prepared a chessboard for a match he said, "You know I love you, right?"

"I know."

"If I could take you out from here, I would."

"I know." Hermione moved her pawn over the chessboard. "I would leave if I could."

They played for almost an hour before Remus declared it was time for their evening workout. Hermione was dead tired by then, and she almost fell asleep during the stretching exercises. Remus carried her to her bed.

"You made great progress today," he said. "You found motivation. It isn't strange that you are tired."

"I just wanted to spend more time with you," Hermione whispered.

"I know… I will make sure to say good-bye to you before your husband tosses me out tomorrow."

She smiled and fell asleep the moment his arms came around her.

xxx

Voldemort stared at the man and the woman sleeping in his bed. HIS wife, sleeping in HIS bed with another man. Didn't they have any sense of dignity?

He sat on his couch, reading what the girl found out about the Cup. However, his eyes kept wandering to the bed. It was not like he wanted to be in the werewolf's position. He couldn't see where the girl started and the werewolf ended. Voldemort had always despised that kind of intimacy. Still… It wasn't right! Just because she had been a little depressed lately.

The girl mumbled something in her sleep. Voldemort rose from the sofa and walked to the bed. The werewolf slowly opened his eyes and looked at him. The Dark Lord pressed his lips together. A little smile played at the corner of Remus' lips. The werewolf shifted a little and rearranged the girl in his arms. She smiled in her sleep. Although she couldn't see him, he smiled at her and stroked her hair away from her face. Then he looked at Voldemort again with a raised eyebrow.

Voldemort seldom accepted challenges from others. He usually laughed when people were stupid enough to let a silly challenge make them do stupid things. But this werewolf was questioning his ability to take care of his own wife! Just because he didn't want to be married to the little minx, didn't mean he couldn't deal with her.

With a quick move, he deposited his robe to the floor and crawled into bed. The werewolf smirked as Voldemort placed his arms around her body. She mumbled something again before she made herself comfortable in his arms. Voldemort smiled in triumph. The werewolf rolled his eyes before he closed them, sleep claiming him again.

Voldemort spent the rest of the night planning the other man's death.

xxx

Hermione wasn't really awake, neither was she really asleep. She was in that state between sleep and wakefulness. It was too hot. Perhaps it was because she was sandwiched between two other bodies. Was she still dreaming? She had dreamt about being with two men sexually before. Perhaps this was just one of those dreams. Because, let's face it, she didn't know two men she liked enough to enjoy a threesome with. Voldemort would never share her with anyone. This had to be a dream. She wanted to enjoy this dream so she didn't open her eyes.

The man to her left was spooned against her. She could feel his naked form along her back. Nice… The man to her right was breathing against her forehead. She could feel that he was dressed. Her hand was on his back and he was wearing a shirt and boxers. She was wearing clothes too, a long nightgown. Why was she wearing that when she would be so much more comfortable naked? Without disturbing the men, she tried to wriggle the nightgown off. It was very difficult because both men had their arms around her.

Before she realised what was happening, the man behind her stopped her.

"What are you doing?" he hissed in a low voice.

How funny… he sounded just like Voldemort. But she would never have a dream about Voldemort. She didn't even like him! Unless…

Her eyes flew open and found herself staring into Remus' chocolate brown eyes. 'Oh…,' she thought. She hadn't seen that one coming. She blushed so furiously that she was certain her toes were flushed. Thankfully, Voldemort turned her around at the same moment. His eyes narrowed when he saw her guilty eyes. She bit her lip, wondering what he knew.

In one swift movement he pulled her further away from Remus and rolled on top of her. Before she realised what he was about to do, he broke into her mind. It only took him a moment to find what she had been thinking of.

Hermione closed her eyes when he withdrew from her mind. She didn't know what he was doing, but when he fell down on her with a groan she realised he had tried to hit her.

"So you don't think I'm enough?" he hissed into her ear.

"Of course you are," she hissed back. "It was only a stupid dream."

He rolled off her. "Say good-bye to your friend, girl. I will take care of the transportation."

Hermione sat up and saw him leave the room. Some how he managed to dress in just a moment's time. She turned back toward Remus.

"What just happened?" he asked with a concerned look.

Hermione sighed. "He is just… jealous."

Remus arched an eyebrow. "Of me?"

She shrugged. "I think you'll have to leave now."

Remus took her hand. "Do you think you will manage now?"

"With being married?" she asked with a sneer. "Never. We will find a way to kill each other in the end."

The werewolf smiled sadly. "Then I'll hope you'll be the one to find the way first."

"Of course I will," she said without any confidence.

Remus rose from the bed and threw on his robe. Hermione rose too. There was so much she wanted to ask him, about the Order and her friends. But she had prevented herself from asking on the chance that Voldemort was listing. But now…

"How is Harry?" she whispered. She had to know. She couldn't let him leave without knowing.

Remus focused very hard on the last couple of buttons on his robe before he answered. "Not so good. He is blaming himself."

"Could you… not tell him about this?" she asked. "Can't you say that my husband was just being nice?"

Remus frowned. "Hermione… he mentally tortured you into a breakdown."

Hermione hugged herself. "I… it's not Harry's fault I'm weak."

Remus hugged her. "You are not weak, Hermione. You have recovered very fast. Faster than most would."

"I know. So there is no reason to worry Harry even more."

He sighed. "I'll have to tell Dumbledore."

Hermione nodded, but before she could say anything else, Voldemort returned to the room. He gripped her shoulder and pulled her away from Remus before he threw him his wand.

"The Anti-Apparition-ward is temporary off. Get out before I change my mind."

With a last look at Hermione, Remus Apparated. However, Voldemort didn't let go of her shoulder.

"If I wasn't forced to protect you, I would let Crabbe and Goyle show you what a threesome can be like," he angrily muttered.

Hermione shivered at the thought. "I said that it was just a stupid dream. Everyone has sexual dreams sometimes!"

He huffed. Hermione broke loose from him. She hoped Dumbledore would tell Remus not to tell Harry…. He had enough to worry about as it was. Hmm… speaking of Dumbledore.

"Have I received my N.E.W.T.'s yet?" she asked and looked at him.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, I think you have."

"You think?"

"Yes. I think I saw it before we left for Finland, but I haven't had time to look at it yet. Ask that House-Elf to bring us some breakfast." He left again.

Even if she was sad Remus left, she couldn't help but feel excited. She asked Lolly for their regular breakfast and the Elf was back with it before Voldemort returned. He was carrying a bunch of letters.

Hermione held out her hand, but he just looked at it before he made the letters disappear. Hermione stared at him in disbelief.

"What?" he asked and sat down on the sofa. "Did you think I would give them too you? I'm still angry with you."

They ate in silence. Hermione became angrier with every minute that went by. When they finished eating, she left him to take a shower, hoping to use the time to calm down. However, when she was done, she hadn't been successful. She stepped into the room again dressed in only a towel. He was sitting on the sofa, reading.

"It's not like I can control my dreams," she said angrily.

He looked up slowly. "And?"

"What do you want me to say?" she asked. "I'm sorry I didn't dream of you?"

He huffed and looked down at the book again.

"Merlin! You are acting like a child! Just let me read my letters!"

He rose from the couch, trying to intimidate her with his greater height. "Why don't you just dream about them?"

She growled. He started to walk past her. When he was right next to her, she pushed him down into the armchair.

"Did I hurt your sensitive male ego, or what?" she yelled.

He looked surprised. "Why are you so angry?"

"Why are you so childish?" She had no idea why she was so angry. Perhaps she was still a bit unstable. But he wasn't helping, that was for sure. She wanted to hit him so hard…

She careened back from an explosion. The armchair Voldemort had been sitting in burst into flames. It took him a moment to realise that his clothes were on fire. He screamed and jumped up. The fire suddenly froze. Voldemort took a couple of deep breaths before he pulled out his wand and made the flames go away. Hermione watched the scene before her with her mouth wide open.

"I…," she said when Voldemort turned toward her again with an angry look on his face. "I didn't mean…"

"Oh, so you didn't mean to almost kill me?" She realised he was still scared. Well, she was a little scared herself. When she was young she had inadvertently done wandless magic, but never since she began Hogwarts.

She bit her lip. "I think I meant to kill you."

His eyes widened and he stared at her silently for a couple of moments. Then he snapped out of it.

"Fine," he hissed. "I didn't want to do this but you don't give me much choice."

"Do what?"

He walked toward the door and before exiting, he turned to her and said, "I'm going to give you a potion to block your magic."

xxx

Dumbledore was very surprised when he opened the door to his office and found Remus Lupin standing outside. He had been gone for almost three weeks and they all assumed he had been taken by Voldemort. However, here he was and apparently as healthy as ever. Dumbledore became suspicious.

"When was your first detention?" Dumbledore asked with narrowed eyes.

Remus smiled sadly. "In February during my first year. Sirius had finally found the way into the kitchens and James was already on detention, so Sirius enlisted my help to steal some food. Professor Robinson was the one who caught us."

Dumbledore nodded and let the man in. "We almost lost hope of ever seeing you again."

"I'm sorry I worried you," Remus said and sat down in the armchair. "I wasn't allowed to notify you."

Dumbledore sat down behind his desk and offered some breakfast. He let Remus eat a sandwich before he started to question him about his whereabouts.

He was very fascinated with Remus' story. He was most fascinated with was the fact that Voldemort had "kidnapped" him all alone, without the aide of his cohorts. He clearly didn't want anyone to know that he was helping his wife. Dumbledore could think of a theory or two as to why Voldemort would do something like that.

When the postcard from Hermione arrived, he knew that she had taken off the necklace. He had been a little worried about what Voldemort would do if he found out his wife had double-crossed him. Without the help of the necklace, Hermione would be very vulnerable. Thankfully, she was a strong girl in her own right.

"Poor girl," Dumbledore sighed.

Remus nodded. "Yes. He was very angry with her this morning."

"How come?"

"I don't know… I think he was jealous."

"Really?" Dumbledore found this very interesting. Voldemort was actually feeling something for his wife. Perhaps it was just possessiveness… "Did any of them let anything slip while you were there?"

Remus shook his head. "No. Voldemort wasn't there often and… well, until yesterday Hermione didn't really care about anything."

"What changed?"

"I… I'm not sure. Voldemort came in and threw me out. The next thing I know, Hermione runs to me and tell me not to leave. Whatever he did or said must have made her snap out of her depression."

"How peculiar…"

"Very."

Dumbledore noticed how a blush crept up on Remus' cheeks. "Is there something else?"

"Well, I don't really know if it has anything to do with anything… but there was a very strong tension between them."

"Tension?" Dumbledore asked interested.

"Yes, a sexual tension," Remus said slowly. "I don't think he likes her. Nonetheless, he looked ready to just… take her. And I don't think she would have minded."

Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably in his chair. After seeing the photo Harry showed him, Dumbledore didn't think Hermione would ever be able to stand Voldemort in any way. Perhaps he underestimated Voldemort. Perhaps he underestimated her.


	9. Chapter 9

Hi! While the man is busy cooking, I take the opportunity to post another chapter! Here you go! Enjoy!

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Chapter 9

At Tom Riddle's orphanage, the children had been either bullies or victims. They didn't get the chance to learn right and wrong before they got into school. In many cases, unfortunately, it was already too late. You could see this in the cruelness of their games.

Tom had been four years old when he was first introduced to a game called The Chair. He had only been curious to know what the older children did in the older boys' dorm after dinner. A boy named Adam had said that he could play if he sat in The Chair. Tom was curious and excited to play with the older children and he promised he would.

The Chair was a simple game. One child was tied to the chair and the others attempted to push the chair as hard as they could without it tipping over. Tom had nightmares for weeks. He hated the feeling of helplessness. He had been tied to the chair and hadn't been able to move his arms or legs. The falls had been unavoidable.

He vowed never to feel helpless again.

Tom Riddle, mostly known as Voldemort now, thought about this feeling as he walked to the bedroom that belonged to his faithful servant, Severus Snape. Severus had what he needed. His wife had almost burned him and he didn't know why the Contract hadn't stopped her. Perhaps it was because she hadn't consciously meant to do it. After all, in Hamina he was able to harm her until he realised who she was. It was quite an interesting loophole. But it didn't matter. He couldn't be married to someone capable of killing him. He had to do something and Severus Snape was the person to help him.

Her potential to kill him had crossed his mind even before they were forced into this marriage. She was, after all, responsible for the harming several of his Death Eaters the day he lost his body. Even though she hadn't killed anyone, she was the reason they were captured and received the Dementor's Kiss. So, since the moment he found out he was married to Hermione, he began thinking about ways to remove her magical abilities. It was better to be married to a Squib than to a Mudblood who could use magic against you. He researched and found a potion that blocked a person's magic. The potion was very complicated, but Voldemort knew he could trust his Potions Master.

When he met her, he hadn't thought that blocking her magic would be necessary. While she wasn't weak, he didn't imagine that she could harm him without her wand. Clearly, he had been mistaken. Now, she needed to be punished.

He reached Severus' door and out of courtesy, knocked. A moment later, it opened.

"My Lord," Severus said apparently shocked to see his master, and bowed.

"I need the potion," Voldemort hissed. "The one that blocks magic."

Severus frowned and let the Dark Lord into his room. Severus typically stayed at Hogwarts, but Voldemort also provided him with a room here as well. He was living in one of smaller rooms, but he had his own potions lab connected to his bedroom. The room was small and gloomy and only contained a bed and a shelf filled with potions.

"Is it really necessary?" Severus asked as he went over to the shelf and stared at the bottles, searching for one in particular. "The girl is harmless without her wand."

"Don't question my order, Snape!" Voldemort hissed. He didn't have time for this.

"Forgive me, my Lord." Severus retrieved a blue bottle and went back to his master. "Not to be bold, my Lord, but I would strongly advise you to have someone examine the girl before you give her this potion. If she has any Muggle disease, like cancer, her magic is the only thing maintaining her healthy and preventing any diseases from spreading."

Voldemort fingered his wand in annoyance. If the girl had some mortal disease, blocking her magic would be like hurting her. He didn't want to get that damnable headache again, even if it would be fun to see her die slowly and painfully. No, his headache would be horrible. He wouldn't do it. "Are you able to examine her?"

"If you wish."

"Good. Come with me then." The two men walked in silence back to Voldemort's room. He vaguely thought about the half-naked state he had left her in and then realized that it would be fun to see her embarrassed.

He opened the door and saw that she was dressed. Ah, well, perhaps another time.

"Professor!" The girl flew up from the armchair with wide eyes. "But…"

Voldemort smirked. "Surprised? Severus and I go way back."

"We trusted you," she whispered.

Voldemort saw Severus roll his eyes, and he did the same.

"I will only do a quick examination before the Dark Lord gives you the magic-blocking potion," Severus said and took out his wand. "If you would please lie down on the couch?"

The girl's eyes narrowed and she looked at Voldemort. "I don't want the potion."

Voldemort went to her. "You think I give a damn? Now, lie down on the couch," he then leaned over her and whispered, "Or would you rather I tied you down?"

It took a moment before she understood what he was referring too, but when she did, she pressed her lips together and glared at him. Voldemort smirked as she obeyed and laid down. Severus acted like he didn't see her grimace when he sat down on the table next to the couch. The girl didn't look at him.

"Does anyone in your family have any known diseases?" Severus asked as he pointed his wand at her chest.

"One of my uncles had multiple sclerosis," she said. "Both my father's parents had cancer, one from smoking, the other one in her bones. My other grandmother had some skin problem. I think my paternal grandfather had a stroke as well, but he was already very ill by then."

Severus nodded thoughtfully and Voldemort observed Severus testing her for the diseases she mentioned. It would take too long to search for all known diseases. They were all quiet until Severus was done.

"Well, I can't see any signs for cancer, MS, or for any other life threatening diseases. It could come when you are older, of course…"

"Good," Voldemort interrupted. "Give her the potion."

Severus frowned. "Are you sure, my Lord? The potion hasn't been tested, but it is very strong and it could interfere with the development of the child's power."

Voldemort arched his eyebrows. "What child?"

Severus eyes widened. "Hers of course," he said and pointed at the girl. "She is already in her eighth week."

Voldemort blinked. What?

xxx

Hermione stared at her former teacher. She had never had a problem understanding what a teacher was saying before, but this time, she just couldn't comprehend. It was nonsense, really. She didn't have a child. She thought she would notice if… if…

Her hand came down to her stomach. He had told her she was getting fat. But… it was his fault. She started to laugh. He thought she was gaining weight because of all of the candy she was eating, but in reality, it was all his fault! She was carrying Baby Voldemort! She doubled over and laughed until the tears ran. It was just too unbelievable.

And then another thought hit her and her laughter stopped. She was going to give birth to Voldemort's child. The Dark Lord's baby! Oh, Merlin… how disturbing.

She looked up and stared at her husband. "You," she hissed.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. Hermione got up from the couch. Voldemort rose too. He looked ready to both fight and run away. If she could, she would hit him.

"You… haven't you heard about contraceptives? They come in all forms! Potions, spells and even condoms!"

"Of course I have, Mrs Witty," he hissed back. "I cast the spell on our wedding night! And then again that time in Hamina! Did you and Malfoy…?"

"MALFOY? ARE YOU INSANE? He would have to rape me if he wanted to touch me!" she screamed.

"WELL WHO IN THE HELL IS THE FATHER THEN?"

"I TOLD YOU I HAD NEVER BEEN WITH ANYONE BEFORE!" They were shouting so high they didn't hear Snape trying to get their attention.

"MY LORD," Snape finally said in a loud voice.

Voldemort and Hermione turned their heads toward him.

Voldemort took a deep breath. "Severus. You may leave. But I forbid you to share anything about the things you have heard and seen here. And I mean anything. I will know if you have disobeyed me."

Hermione actually doubted that. She had been very surprised when Snape entered the room, but she quickly put on a show so that Voldemort wouldn't get suspicious if she acted like she still respected Snape. It would just be weird if she acted nice toward a person who was supposed to have betrayed the Order and Hogwarts. Perhaps she could even help Snape with his spying. Snape left the room and she turned toward her husband again. He took a step closer, trying to intimidate her with his larger size.

"I wish for you to tell me the truth about your sex life," he hissed and she could feel the tingle of magic. "Who, besides me, has put his cock inside you?"

"No one!" she spat. "I have only had sex three times! I have merely kissed other boys before!"

"Three times." Voldemort's eyes widened. "We have had sex three times…"

Hermione pressed her lips together. "Yes. And I have no wand, so you can't blame me!"

"But I do, you silly little twit," he spat. "If you hadn't sauntered around half naked…"

"So, it's my fault you fucked me?"

"YES!" he yelled and gripped her shoulder. "I told you not to provoke me and still you walk around half naked!"

"You think I planned this?" she asked with disbelief.

"Are you telling me you didn't?" he roared. "I heard what that hairdresser said! You thought I would be nicer once you gave me a child!"

"How could I think something like that when you have proved time and time again that you don't have a decent bone in you body?" she screamed and gripped the front of his robes and was almost tearing the material away.

He watched her silently. "I'm glad you have understood that. Then you will also understand that this… child won't change a thing."

Hermione looked straight into his glowing red eyes. "Believe me, I understand. But I also know that you are fooling yourself if you think this won't change anything."

His grip on her shoulders was almost painful. "You're wrong!"

Hermione almost wanted to smile mockingly. She knew she was right. Not that she had a child before, but she knew people who had. All of them told her it was life changing, in one way or another.

Voldemort seemed to know what she was thinking. "You insolent little bitch," he growled.

"You egoistical maggot," she retorted and pushed him, causing him to take a step back.

He then pushed her… hard. She stumbled back and into the sofa. Before she fell down, she gripped his robes again and dragged him down with her. Some how, they missed the couch and fell down on the floor. She fell on top of him. He looked a bit surprise to suddenly find himself on the floor. She was even more surprised to feel his erection against her thigh.

"Do you actually get turned on by fighting?" she mumbled. Her blood was pumping fast as well, and she wasn't sure if it was only because of her anger.

"Well, since I can't rip the flesh off your bones…" His hand came up behind her head and he pressed his mouth against hers.

Their sex didn't take long, but it was very intense. Their clothes disappeared and he was inside of her before she even realised how wet she was. For a moment, Hermione almost felt like she melted into his body. He allowed her to touch him this time, and when she climaxed, her nails left marks over his back. When he was done, he rolled off her and they both remained lying on the floor. Hermione didn't mind, and she smiled to herself, sated.

Voldemort helped her to rise from the floor and, in unison, they both dropped onto the sofa, naked. When she tried to snuggle, he pushed her away. She sighed and let her head fall against the back of the sofa instead.

"I can't believe it," he finally said.

Hermione had almost dozed off. "What?"

He placed his hand on her stomach. "I thought you were just getting fat. Although, you did vomit a lot when…"

Hermione sighed and looked at his hand. It felt warm against her stomach. "I think I'll be getting even fatter now."

"Certainly. Circe, I don't even like fat people."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because it's clear they haven't lived a healthy life."

"And it what? Scares you?"

"No, I am appalled by it."

"You are very prejudiced," she said matter-of-factly.

"So you mean you love everybody?" he said with a snort.

"No, of course not. But if I judge someone, I try to judge them by their actions, not the way they look or who their parents are."

"I don't believe you," he muttered and withdrew his hand from her stomach. "I'm not half as prejudiced as most of my Death Eaters."

"In what way?"

"They would never dream of kissing someone like you." He left her on the sofa and made his way toward the bathroom. He hesitated in the doorway. With a wave of his hand, a small pile of letters appeared on the table in front of her. "Don't let it go to your head."

Hermione stared after him as he closed the door to the bathroom. She had noticed he was a lot calmer and nicer after sex, although… this _reward_ was unexpected. Before he changed his mind, she took the four letters, all addressed to Hermione Riddle, and opened the first one. It was the result scores of her N.E.W.T.'s. She received an Outstanding in every subject! When she looked carefully at the scores, she realised she just barley managed to get the highest score in Defence Against the Dark Arts. She frowned. It bugged her a little. She knew she could fight the Dark Arts, so why did she get a lower scores in DADA compared to the other tests? Remus had once told her that she needed to understand the Dark Arts before she could fight it. Was that it? Did she need to learn more about Dark Arts?

The second letter was from Mrs Weasley. It was a very short letter where she wished Hermione well and hoped she would be able to join them for Christmas. Hermione allowed herself to dream about sitting at the Burrow again, drinking toddy and listing to carols. Voldemort would never allow that.

The third letter was from Gringotts. Since Hermione and Voldemort were to share everything, she now had access to his bank vault. The letter contained information about the contents of the vault, as well as her personal key. Her eyes widened when she saw how much money her husband owned. They could move into a castle and live in luxury for the rest of their lives without having to lift a finger. Well, maybe for the rest of _her_ life. How did he get all this money?

She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

The final letter was an invitation from Narcissa Malfoy. It was a very formal note, inviting her and her husband to the Malfoy's annual Halloween feast. Hermione frowned upon reading the letter, but she guessed it was some Death Eater thing. Voldemort would probably explain it later.

At the same moment, her husband exited the bathroom, fully dressed. "Aren't you going to get dressed?"

She put the letters on the table again. "I waited for you to get ready. I didn't think you liked company in the shower. Did you know I'm known as Hermione Riddle?"

He arched an eyebrow. "By whom?"

"The bank and by the school." She held up the envelops. "They are all addressed to Hermione Riddle."

"Well, that is what the wedding contract says your new name is," he muttered.

"So you won't get angry if people call me Mrs Riddle?" she asked.

He sighed. "If it means so much to you… fine, use the bloody name."

"Thank you," she said, a bit sarcastic. "If just feels nice to know that I have a name."

He grunted and she went to the shower. When she washed herself, her hand stopped at her stomach. There was a slight bump, but she didn't think anyone would guess she was pregnant. Baby Riddle… Merlin, even she couldn't believe it. It just didn't make any sense! She hadn't really thought about babies. She imagined that perhaps sometime when she was thirty or so. She never imagined now and surely not with Lord Voldemort. They would probably be the worst parents ever.

xxx

A month went by without anything interesting happening. The first week, Hermione found herself getting depressed, but Voldemort quickly found the cure for that. Books. Since her revelation about the Cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, she hadn't found anything interesting. However, that didn't stop her from searching.

In the second week, Voldemort took her jogging again. This time, they didn't argue and he was quite pleased with her physical progress. Not that he would ever tell her that.

Hermione was also allowed to Floo to his library even when he wasn't there. Even though they were technically living together, they didn't see much of each other. Voldemort came by sometimes to take her out for a run or some other workout, but other than that, they just slept together. Some nights they didn't even do that. Hermione liked the library so much she found herself waking up there some mornings. Other days, she would wake up and the only evidence of her husband's existence would be his crumpled sheets. She found it very peaceful, but also quite lonely.

It was the middle of September before something interesting happened again. Hermione was now in the beginning of her fourth month and on the evening of the eighteenth of September, she found herself feeling slightly dizzy. Figuring she just needed some rest, she went to the bed and closed her eyes.

Minutes later, she could hear steps in the corridor. The door opened and she recognised the steady steps of her husband. He was muttering something to himself. Suddenly he stopped.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Just resting," she answered truthfully. "I was feeling a little dizzy."

She could hear him come closer to the bed. A moment later, he sat down next to her. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was frowning.

"You do look a little pale." His hand came up to her forehead. "Do you think you have a fever?"

"It's probably just something related to the pregnancy. You know I'll never forgive you for that, right?"

"So you keep saying," he mumbled and swept his wand over her. "It doesn't appear to be anything dangerous." He got up from the bed.

"Wait," she said. "Could you hug me?"

He stared at her as if she had grown a second head. "Hug you?" he said slowly.

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly. "I want a hug."

He continued staring at her. "Why do you think I care?"

His hand was just within reach, so she grabbed it and said, "Hug me or I shall destroy you."

He chuckled. "You certainty know how to charm a wizard, gir… ouch! What did you do?"

Hermione smirked. "I read too much." She sent away another electric pulse. It wasn't much, only enough to make his hair curl. She found it in a book about Dark Arts and had wanted to try it on her husband ever since. It wasn't difficult. She only directed a little of her magic into him and let it explode. She guessed she could kill him if she gave him too much magic, but unfortunately, the Contract wouldn't allow her to kill him.

"How?" he asked and finally sank down on the bed and put his arms around her. "I thought you despised Dark Arts, and the Contract doesn't allow us to hurt each other."

"You are an exception. I would never use Dark Arts on someone else. And I'm not hurting you, per se, I am merely giving you a little of my magic."

He snorted. "If you want to know more Dark Arts, just tell me. I wouldn't mind teaching you."

Hermione didn't say anything. The truth was that her low score in Defence Against the Dark Arts bugged her a little. Harry said that she needed to understand the Dark Arts, and so she began to study it. Many of the spells and curses were just awful, but she couldn't stand not knowing….

"How long am I supposed to hug you?" he asked after a couple of minutes.

"If I would get some human contact more often, I wouldn't need so much now," she muttered. Her head was still spinning, but not as much as it had before. "Perhaps if I could see my friends…"

He huffed and made an attempt to get up, but her grip on him tightened. He sighed. "If you do well at the Halloween party, we will talk about it. I am not above giving rewards."

Now it was her time to huff. "You are acting like you own me."

"But I do," he purred. "You are my wife…"

"You do know we are living in the twentieth century, right?"

"Aha, and?"

"Men don't own their wives anymore."

"But I'm special."

She huffed again in annoyance. "Tomorrow is my birthday and I want to celebrate it with my friends!"

"Ah, so that's why you have received all those gifts. I started to think you had done something again…"

"What gifts?"

"You'll see tomorrow," he mumbled. His eyes were closed and Hermione wondered if he was about to fall asleep. He hadn't been to bed tonight so she wasn't surprised he was tired.

"Can't you take me out tomorrow," she asked.

"Hmm? You mean running?"

"No, just out. We could eat in a restaurant."

"Don't be silly, only real couples do things like that."

"Aren't we a real couple?"

He sighed and opened his eyes. "Let's see, we hate each other and if we could, we would kill each other. We don't like the same things and we don't share the same morals."

"But we are married and we are going to have a baby."

"We are not a couple, girl. Couples like each other at the very least. We were forced together."

Hermione sighed. "It's just… I will go mad if I have to stay here all the time."

"Oh no, then I just have to be nice and let you go and see your friends," he said mockingly.

"You don't have to be mean. It would just be nice to have someone to talk too," she mumbled.

"Well, I'm here now. I can't imagine whom you would rather speak too."

"Well, as you said yourself, we hate each other."

"So?"

"It would be nice to speak to someone who actually cared about what I said."

"Then you will just have to make new friends at the Malfoy's next month."

Hermione was quiet for a while. "I don't want to hug you anymore."

"Finally!" He got up but stopped when he heard her sob. "Oh, what is it now?"

Hermione didn't answer. She felt absolutely miserable crying and she blamed it on the hormones. If the loneliness didn't drive her mad, the hormones would.

Voldemort pressed his lips together. "I am not going to be blackmailed by a little female crying. What do you think it will achieve?"

She still didn't answer. Once she started to cry, she just couldn't stop. She didn't really know why she felt so pathetic, but she did.

"Circe, woman! Calm down!"

Hermione flew up from the bed. "I HATE YOU!" she screamed before she stormed into the bathroom. She knew she was acting childish and illogical, but she couldn't help it. If he couldn't comfort her, she wanted to be alone in her misery. She heard the door to the corridor slam shut. It took her some time to calm down. She filled the bathtub with steaming water and sank down in it.

"Lolly," she said.

The small House-elf appeared with a small thump. "Lady called?"

"Yes, could you bring me some chocolate?"

The elf hesitated. "The Lord will not be happy."

"Let me deal with the Lord," Hermione muttered.

"Yes, Lady." The elf bowed and disappeared with another thump. A moment later she was back with dark chocolate cake.

Hermione thanked her and the elf disappeared. Hermione let her mind wander as she sat in the bathtub, slowly eating the cake. She wondered what Harry was doing now. Had Remus returned safely? Would the war be over soon? Her husband never talked about it. He was always away somewhere. He had come back with blood on his robes three times. Not that he had wanted to show her. But it was hard not to notice when you were sitting in the room. For her sanity, she pretended not to know what he was doing. She couldn't do anything to stop him at the moment. So, it was best not to worry. When the opportunity arose, she would take it and fight him.

Many hours later, Hermione was back in bed again. It was the middle of the night, but she couldn't sleep. Voldemort hadn't returned and she feared that he had once again taken out his anger on some innocent Muggle. When the clock stroked two in the morning, she realised she had officially turned twenty years old half an hour ago. Not that she felt any older, she just started to wonder where she would be in another twenty years. Would she even still be alive?

Giving up any hope of falling asleep, she got up from the bed and picked out a random book from the bookshelf and sat down on the couch. Almost an hour later, the door opened and Voldemort stepped through. She looked up and met his gaze. He seemed thoughtful. She noticed he wasn't covered in blood and felt a burden lift from her shoulders.

He stepped up to her. She gave him a questioning look before he reached out and tilted her head up and kissed her. She was surprised by his gentleness, but leaned into the kiss. Too soon, he broke free.

"Happy birthday," he whispered.

"Why did you…?" He placed a finger over her lips and she fell silent.

"I have a surprise for you," he said in a low voice and took her hand.

She frowned. "What kind of surprise?"

"A pet," he said and pulled her up. "I had planned to give her to one of my minions, but then I figured she would be of better use for you. I'm getting very tired of watching you cry all the time."

Not certain if she would like this "pet", Hermione followed him out from the room. He was still holding her hand as they went down the corridor.

"It's not another head, I hope?" she asked with a nervous smile.

"No, I learned my lesson," he answered. "This one is alive. We captured her during a fight a couple of weeks ago. I have questioned her, but she didn't know as much as I would have hoped."

"It's a person?" Hermione asked, a bit shocked.

"You could say so."

They went down a couple of stairs before they came to another corridor. Hermione didn't know how Voldemort found his way; everything looked the same to her. He stopped in front of a door and opened it with a wave of his wand. Hermione stepped inside and found herself standing in a small dark room. It took some moments before her eyes adjusted to the dark, but when they did, she saw a body on the floor. It was a trembling female body.

"Wake up," Voldemort said in a commanding voice.

The woman on the floor sat up and when Hermione saw her face, she recognised her. She didn't look like she used to, her big brown eyes looked haunted, and her beautiful red hair had been shaved off.

Hermione couldn't hold back a gasp. "Ginny?"


	10. Chapter 10

Tuesday again and the longest chapter this far! Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 10

The young girl flinched at the sound of her name. Hermione kneeled in front of her and took her hand.

"Ginny?" she asked again. "It's me, Hermione."

Ginny appeared scared. She whimpered and tried to pull her hand back. Hermione didn't let go. She knew Voldemort was watching the entire scene before him, but she didn't care. This was a friend.

"What did you do to her?" she asked her husband.

"She is a war prisoner, what do you think I did?" he asked. "You should be grateful I didn't kill her."

Hermione didn't answer. She was still looking at Ginny. Other than being dirty and hairless, the girl didn't seem to be injured in any way. Although, she guessed that they probably used the Cruciatus Curse on her. She also feared that she was raped.

"What happened to her hair?" she asked.

"I'm surprised you have to ask."

She turned her head and looked at him with a frown. He smirked back at her. "I thought you would have read all the books I have on torture by now."

Hermione suddenly remembered. "You wanted to strip her of her identity."

He nodded. "It's a very common thing to do."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she turned back to look at Ginny. She could see a small flicker of hope in the younger girl's eyes, but their usual fire was gone.

"So," Voldemort said. "Do you want to keep her, or should I…?"

"No!" she said quickly. "Or… I mean, yes, I want to keep her. Can she stay in Remus' old room?"

"As long as I don't see her in ours."

"Okay."

"And you will still spend time researching."

Hermione nodded, but turned her attention back to Ginny. The younger girl clearly understood what they were saying because she had tears in her eyes and she appeared relieved. Hermione smiled at her and brushed her tears away. It hurt to see her friend like this. They had never been very close and when Ron died they drifted even further apart. Hermione spent most of her time with Harry, mourning their friend. There was little space for others.

"And," Voldemort said, she could hear a smile hidden behind his words. "You'll assist me in questioning the prisoners."

Her head snapped back in response. "What?"

He shrugged. "I think you can be helpful."

Her eyes narrowed. "If I get to take Ginny home..."

He arched an eyebrow. "Home? Do you really think I would let you go anywhere alone? Besides, she is your gift. You don't just throw away a gift."

"I should get to do what I want with it… her," she corrected herself.

He seemed thoughtful for a moment. "We'll see. Move her; I want to go to bed."

Hermione helped Ginny to get up. The girl managed to walk on her own, although, she leaned against Hermione for support. She wondered how much Ginny had eaten the last couple of weeks. From the state of the girl, she would imagine very little. They arrived at the room and Hermione helped Ginny into the small bedroom Remus had used. It was connected via a small bathroom. Hermione thought Ginny would want a shower, so she took her to the bathroom after giving her something to eat.

They were alone inside the bathroom when Ginny finally spoke. Her voice was a bit hoarse and uncertain. "You don't look like yourself."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I could say the same about you."

"I-I thought you were just one of them… Polyjuiced or something. Are you… you?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Hermione said. "I have a new haircut and new expensive clothes because he wanted me to look… nicer. Should I wait outside while you take a shower?"

Ginny's lower lip started to tremble.

"I can stay, if you want me to," Hermione assured her quickly.

Ginny nodded silently. With her back toward Hermione, she stripped out of the old robe she was wearing and stepped into the shower. Hermione wasn't surprised when she saw the younger girl starting to scrub her body raw. It wasn't a dream to live with Voldemort, however, she didn't think she would trade it against the horror Ginny must have lived through.

Half an hour later, Ginny finally turned off the water and stepped out. Hermione had always been a bit envious of Ginny because of her curvaceous body. Now she didn't feel anything but sorrow when she saw her. Ginny's ribs and hipbones looked like they were ready to break through from under her skin.

Hermione gave her a towel and helped her to bed.

"Did they… do something?" Hermione asked. "Because I could give you a potion that prevents things."

Ginny shook her head. "They said I would be spared."

"Oh, good…" Hermione bit her lip. What did you say to a girl who had just been rescued from weeks of torture? "So, do you think you can sleep?"

"I… yes. Thank you."

Hermione stroked Ginny's cheek. "I wish I could have helped you earlier."

Ginny closed her eyes. Hermione watched her for a couple of minutes before she got up and went back to her bedroom. Voldemort was lying on the bed with his eyes on her.

"You are monsters," she said when she climbed into bed. "How could you do that to a girl?"

She couldn't really be angry with him, because she knew he could have just as well dumped Ginny on some more than willing Death Eaters, or he could have killed her. However, she couldn't thank him either. What they did to her was just sick!

"That is war, wife. We take what we can, so does the other side."

"They wouldn't torture a girl."

"That's what they want you to believe." His moved closer to her and placed his hand at her stomach. "You and that girl are lucky…"

"Do you ever feel sick of what you are doing?" she asked and turned her head toward him.

"No. I don't think I ever have." He removed his hand and turned to his back.

"There is something seriously wrong with you," she muttered.

"If you say so, dear," he said lightly.

xxx

As his wife spent most of her time with the Weasley girl, Voldemort found himself enjoying the solitude. He could finally relax when she wasn't constantly chitchatting about everything. When they were speaking, he noticed that she was happier than before. It didn't really matter to him if she was happy or not, but at least she was nicer toward him. And that was good, because he was certain to always get a headache when she was angry.

October went by quickly, and the annual Malfoy feast approached. Voldemort had never been much for big gatherings, however, as the Dark Lord, he was expected to make an appearance. Besides, he needed to show them all how perfectly his wife obeyed him. Not that she really was, but it was important that they believed it.

The morning of the big feast, he woke up early. The girl was still asleep next to him. She must have returned to the room quite late, because he didn't hear her enter. He watched her sleep for a while. Her hair was lying like a halo around her head and her stomach was quite big now. She was at the end of her fourth month. He still didn't understand it. If there was something he had never been curious about, it was what fatherhood would be like. It just didn't exist in his world. He wasn't father material! Some may think he wanted to have an heir. However, you didn't need an heir when you lived forever.

Nevertheless, what's done is done. If the child caused him trouble, he would just eliminate it.

The girl moved in her sleep. He snapped out of his thoughts and woke her up with a gentle poke.

"Good morning," he mumbled.

She stretched, inadvertently showing him her slightly swelling breasts. "Good morning."

"It's a big day today," he said.

She frowned, but then she remembered. "Oh, right, the feast. Do I have to go?"

"Yes, you do," he rose a little and leaned against his elbow so he could watch her face clearly. "This night is very important. You will have to act like a perfect, obeying wife. So, no speaking up, do not fight and do not look like you want to speak up or fight. Try to be quiet and only speak about unimportant subjects. Like clothes and children. Listen to the gossip, but do not give away anything that could be used as a weapon against us. If I tell you to do something, you will obey me without any hesitation. And most importantly, act like you are grateful to be married to me."

She was staring at him in disbelief. "So, in other words, you want me to act like some stupid little twit?"

"Not quite. You are my wife, and that alone gives you a higher status than all of the other females."

"And the males?"

"Some of them. Not the ones in my inner circle."

"And who are in your inner circle?"

"Those who don't bow as deeply as the others."

"Right… anything else?"

"Yes, if you fail to do this, I will kill your friend." It was not like he gave her the Weasley girl out of the goodness of his heart. He had predicted this. His wife was clever. Nevertheless, sometimes she needed motivation. That was one of the few reasons why he actually agreed to let their child be born. It would be the perfect way to keep her under control.

She looked horrified. "You can't…"

"Watch me."

Her eyes narrowed. "If I succeed, you will let me take her home."

"You have become quite a negotiator," he noticed. "Do you not care that I will kill your friend?"

"Well, you seem to already have made up your mind. I better negotiate now."

He smirked. "Fine, I will let you take her home. However, it will be under my terms."

"As long as you leave her alone once she is home."

"Of course." They both got out of the bed. He put on some trousers before he began with his morning exercise. She made her way toward the bathroom.

"You are becoming quite good at this game," he said, almost out of impulse.

"What game?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Mine."

She stopped and looked at him with a slight frown. Then she sighed. "Bad influence, I suppose."

He smirked. His little wife was starting to turn out nicely for him.

xxx

Ginny helped Hermione get dressed for the Halloween feast. During the last month, she had changed a lot. Of course, she wasn't the happy girl she had been before she was captured. But at least she didn't have nightmares anymore. Her hair was starting to grow back and Hermione managed to get her to laugh a couple of times.

"What will you wear?" Ginny asked as she helped Hermione brush her hair. Hermione was putting on some make-up.

"A long green dress robe," Hermione answered with a sigh. "I think he will show me off like some kind of trophy wife. You should have heard him; 'Only speak of clothes and children. Obey me.' It's like I don't have a brain of my own!"

"At least you will look pretty," Ginny said and watched Hermione through the mirror. Hermione actually learned how to apply eyeliner, and she was brave enough to use a little rouge. She had never used it before, but Ginny showed her how to wear it.

"Oh, yes, you have to look pretty when you are Mrs Riddle…," Hermione huffed.

"But you have something to do." Ginny never complained about her situation, although, now that she was feeling better and wasn't being tortured, she was bored. Hermione tried to spend as much time as she could with her, although there was little they could do together.

"I'll try to sneak in a harmless book," Hermione promised.

"I would appreciate that," Ginny said and smiled.

They fell silent. Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Hermione sighed and returned to her room. Voldemort didn't say anything when she entered, he just pointed at the dress before he went to the bathroom. Hermione hurried over to a bookshelf and removed two different books. One was a fictional love story (she would never find out what it was doing in Voldemort's bookshelf) and the other was a book about wizards in the Roman Empire. She didn't know if Ginny would like any of them, nevertheless, it was better than nothing.

She went back to her friend and hid the books under Ginny's bed. Voldemort had never been in there before, but he was very unpredictable. Ginny smiled at her and helped her to button up the dress. It was a very modest green dress that hugged her pregnant belly and reached all the way down to her ankles. It exposed her décolletage, exposing her collarbones and the beautiful diamond necklace around her neck. Voldemort tried to persuade her to pierce her ears, but that was one thing Hermione refused. She had never been fond of needles, and she wouldn't pierce her ears just to please him. He gave up when she reminded him that he couldn't physically harm her.

At half past six, Voldemort knocked on Ginny's door again. Hermione hugged her friend and promised to stop by when they returned. She got out to her room and saw Voldemort standing next to the bed. He was wearing black dress robes with a green shirt underneath. It was the same shade of green as her dress. He looked very rich and handsome. He even trimmed his hair, completing his stylish look.

His crimson eyes glittered when he saw her. "Good. You look lovely."

She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "You didn't think I would?"

He smirked. "Well, people have never mistaken you for a Lady."

"I never claimed to be one," she answered, a bit annoyed.

He chuckled and approached her. He touched her hair. It was tied back in a simple but elegant braid.

"It's actually beautiful," he remarked and let go of her hair.

"Thank you," she sneered.

"Now we have some more things to settle," he said and took her arm. They would have to walk to the Apparition point. Hermione didn't know where it was, so she just followed her husband. "Make sure you don't drink anything with alcohol, it could be poisonous. Always sniff the drinks before you take a sip. If anything tastes strange, spit it out and don't drink anything else. A House-Elf will taste all our food before we eat it, so we don't have to worry about that."

"What? I won't let a House-Elf get killed just because someone wants to kill me!"

He stopped and looked down at her with serious eyes. "You will tonight." They started to walk again. "And don't let anyone know you actually care what happens to a House-Elf."

Hermione pressed her lips together.

"Furthermore, you may only dance once with each partner. Except with me. You do know how to dance, I hope?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

"You will curtsy at the Malfoys, not more than two inches. You will not make eye contact with Lucius or any other male in the inner circle unless they initiate a conversation."

"I bet you are happy I'm not as stupid as you want them to believe," she mumbled. "Otherwise I would never have remembered all this."

"Ah, that brings me to my last point. Do not act like a Know-It-All. If they think you are average, they will tell you more. Don't act like you understand everything they are saying. Especially if they speak about politics or economy."

Voldemort opened a door and they stepped out onto a balcony. "Oh, you will also refer to me as 'your husband' or 'my Lord'."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because I am."

"You are not my Lord."

"Yes I am."

"No, your not."

"You friend will be dead if you continue to argue."

"I hate you."

"I hate you too."

He pulled her closer to him and she could feel the uncomfortable sensation of being moved through space. When she felt ground under her feet again, she opened her eyes and found herself standing in a very extravagant hall. Everything was white and silver, even the Malfoys who were standing there, greeting the guests. Lucius was wearing a long white and silver dress robe and his wife was wearing a long white and silver dress. They looked very much the same and for a moment, Hermione wondered if they were pretending to be ghosts.

"My Lord!" Lucius bowed and Narcissa curtsied.

Voldemort only bowed his head.

"And Mrs Riddle," Lucius took her hand and touched it with his lips as he bowed. Hermione curtsied and hoped it wasn't too little or too much. When Voldemort didn't look angry, she guessed she was doing alright.

"Please, follow us to the ballroom," Lucius said.

Narcissa, who had been staring at Hermione's stomach, looked up and smiled.

"Almost everyone is already here, Sir," Narcissa said as she took her husband's arm. Hermione had never heard her speak before; she wasn't surprised when she heard that the blond woman's voice was very pleasant to listen too.

"Good," was Voldemort's only reply.

Narcissa lead them through two large double doors that led out onto a small platform. A large marble staircase led from the platform and into a very big ballroom. Over twenty tables were placed along the walls, and almost every seat was occupied. Everyone rose when they appeared at the top of the stairs. Voldemort lifted his hand and everyone bowed. Hermione couldn't help but feel uncomfortable and she wanted to hide behind her husband. She had never liked to be the centre of attention, and this just felt ridiculous. Nevertheless, she tried to straighten her back and look over everyone's head. If there was one thing her grandmother taught her, it was that if you wanted to make a good impression, you had to hold yourself with grace.

With a firm grip on her arm, Voldemort led Hermione down the stairs.

"Don't smile," he mumbled. "Look unimpressed."

She tried, but she had never seen anything like it before. The ceiling seemed to be thirty feet high, and it was painted as elaborately as one would a cathedral. In the centre of the ceiling, hung the largest chandelier she had ever seen, lit by hundreds of candles. The floor was made of marble, and there was a large silver fountain in the middle of the room. In the centre of the fountain was silver statue in the shape of a unicorn. In each corner of the room, were enormous bouquets of white roses. Hermione was happy to see the green leaves in the bouquets; otherwise she would have thought she had gone blind with all the silver and white. The room was very surrealistic. Thankfully, she could look out through the large windows and see the blue evening sky.

Voldemort led her to the most prominent table and he pulled out a chair and made a gesture for her to sit down. She carefully sat down and made certain not to get wrinkles on her skirt. Voldemort pulled out the chair to her right and sat down. Draco Malfoy sat to her left and next to him, sat a young girl with dark hair that Hermione didn't recognise.

On the other side of Voldemort sat Narcissa and Lucius. Hermione didn't recognise the other two couples at the table and they pretended not to see her. They were served three different dishes and Hermione had no idea what it was. It was all just… white. She didn't speak to anyone at the table, only listened. Draco didn't speak to her and only spoke to the dark haired girl who seemed to be very shy.

It took almost two hours before the dinner was over and Hermione was very bored by then. She wondered if she could fake some sickness, but quickly decided that would probably not be good for Ginny.

It was then that Lucius stood up and declared that it was time for dancing. An invisible band began to play and Lucius asked Narcissa for the first dance. Voldemort took Hermione's hand and escorted her to the dance floor before she could protest.

"People will start to talk with you now," he said as he led her through the steps of the dance.

"Hm?"

"Do you remember what we talked about?"

"Ahuh… I'll play dumb… or dumber. Talk about clothes and babies… What are our thoughts about the baby? Are we happy?"

"We are happy. It wasn't an accident."

"Okay…" The first song ended and Voldemort led her back to their table before he asked Narcissa for the next dance.

When Hermione was about to sit down, Lucius took her arm and asked for a dance. It was quite a slow dance and all Lucius said was that she had a beautiful dress. She complimented his house and the food.

When the second dance was over, Hermione finally got to sit down. She watched her husband as he danced with another woman. He was saying something and the woman was smiling. Hermione sighed and let her eyes wander to the other guests. After a while, she noticed that a lot of people were looking at her. When she saw them, they quickly looked away. She knew they were talking about her and it made her feel like she was standing alone in the schoolyard again.

A couple of young women came over to her to gossip. Hermione answered as pleasantly as she could, but they quickly grew tired of her lack of information and left again.

Hermione continued to watch the dancers. Voldemort wasn't on the dance floor. She spotted him at a table in the other end of the room. He was talking to some wizards. She frowned. They didn't look like they were enjoying the feast. She could see Voldemort gesturing at someone to leave… what were they doing?

"May I have this dance?" She looked up, and to her great surprise, she saw Snape standing there, looking very uncomfortable.

"Of course," she said and rose. The band started to play a waltz and Snape placed his hand on her waist. They started to dance. He was not a good dancer like Voldemort and Lucius, and he seemed to be nervous.

"They are wondering how you are doing," he suddenly mumbled. "I have not been able to tell them about… your condition."

"Tell them I'm fine," she mumbled back. "I'm taking care of Ginny, she is fine as well."

She wanted to tell him more about what Voldemort had said and done, however, he had ordered her not too. However, he had never told her she couldn't talk about Ginny.

"Her parents will be relieved," Snape muttered.

"Yeah, if I make it through tonight, I get to take her home. But don't tell them that. If my husband changes his mind… well, I don't want to give them any false hope."

"Understandable. Anything else you wish for me to report?"

"Millions of things," she said sadly. "Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to speak about it."

He seemed thoughtful. "Perhaps you can tell me something else?

She had to force herself not to smile. "Hmm… okay, I can try." She was silent for a while. She couldn't say anything too telling, however, she could say something that would hopefully lead the Order in the right direction.

"Oh, okay," she finally said. "I was so glad when I saw that my husband had _Hogwarts,_ _A History_. He finds it as interesting as I do. It's fun to read about the _founders_." Hermione looked around and spotted a woman with a hideous yellow dress. "That _yellow_ dress is… interesting." The song ended. "Thank you for the dance. I think I'll get a _cup_of water." Hermione emphasised each of the critical words she was trying to get across to Snape. She hoped he understood.

He smirked and bowed before he left her. She really hoped he understood what she meant. She went back to her table, but before she could sit down, Narcissa was standing next to her.

"Oh, Mrs Riddle, you simple must see our garden on the terrace. It's something special this time of the evening!" she said in a chirpy voice and took Hermione by the arm.

Narcissa dragged her out while talking cheerfully about the flowers and the bushes. There were many people on the terrace, Narcissa ignored them and dragged Hermione further away from the house.

"… trees were planted by Lucius grandfather, he was so fascinated about…" Narcissa had been looking around, and now Hermione realised they were completely alone. Narcissa stopped talking and her expression changed in a moment. She pushed Hermione into a tree and put her wand against her ribs.

"Now you will listen to me, bitch," Narcissa hissed.

Hermione was still too shocked to do anything but listen. The older woman was small, just like her; however, in that moment, she was very scary.

"If you ever touch one hair on my sweet little boy's head again, I shall rip your head off with my bare hands!" Narcissa was spitting as she talked. "Those nasty Muggles kept him in that prison over night! All because of you, Mudblood slut! You broke his jaw and he couldn't eat for a week!"

Hermione was angry. She hadn't meant to break his jaw but she was glad to hear it. Not to mention that his crazy mother didn't have any right to lure her out here and threaten her.

"Your sweet little son started it," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "He was rude and crude."

Narcissa finally let go of her. She gave her a superior look. "He was merely telling you what everyone already knows. But don't worry. We will make sure the Dark Lord get's rid of you sooner rather than later."

The blond woman pivoted on her expensive heels and strutted away. Hermione stared after her. She was in shock. Narcissa has just intimated that she wasn't the only person intent on killing her. Did Voldemort know about this? He was supposed to protect her!

Emotionally exhausted, Hermione sank down on the ground and her tears began to flow. She cursed, upset at the situation and upset that she would ruin her make-up. Her husband told her she had to look her best. Plus, she didn't want them to know that she was scared. She rose again and took some deep breaths to compose herself. She wished she had a mirror. What if she looked horrible? Voldemort would take that as a failure and he would kill Ginny!

New tears ran down her cheeks and she cursed again.

"That is not very ladylike."

She turned around and saw a young man with long dark hair leaning against a tree. He was smiling.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked superstitious.

"The cursing," he said and walked toward her. "I had never except to hear that from a lady."

"I have never claimed to be a lady."

He chuckled. His chuckle was very beautiful. Low and continuous. "In that case… I'm Maximillian Lestrange."

"Oh, I'm Hermione… Riddle, I guess."

"I know. No one has failed to hear about the Dark Lord's Mudblood bride."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. He saw it and quickly added. "I don't mean to be judgemental; I know what it's like. Everyone talked about me in the same way last year. I'm the bastard son of Rabastan Lestrange… and a Muggle."

"Really?" Hermione was surprised. "Why are you talking to me?"

He shrugged. "I just thought you could use a friendly person to talk to. And… well, you are pretty."

She snorted. "I'm not half as pretty as most of the woman in there. Besides, my husband is the jealous type."

He waved her objections away. "Those women aren't natural like you. They are cold and wouldn't recognise a joke even if it danced naked around them. And I like to live dangerous."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

"What?" he asked mockingly and held out his hands. "Am I not pretty enough for you?"

She smiled and looked at him. He wasn't very tall, perhaps half a head taller than she. He had a wide chest and large muscles. In this light, his eyes were deep blue and his smile appeared genuine. Despite the fact that she met him at a Death Eater's party; she couldn't help but like him.

"Pretty?" she asked with a smile. "Should I think you are pretty?"

He rolled his eyes. "At least I'm not the one with mascara all over my face."

She groaned. "No… really? Could you help me? I can't see myself so…"

"Sure," he stepped forward, took his wand in one hand and her chin in the other. She wasn't sure what he was doing. A moment later, he stepped back and nodded. "There! Much better."

"Are you sure? Because you could have made it worse and I wouldn't notice."

"Pretty as a picture," he assured.

"I guess I will have to take you on your word then, Mr Lestrange."

He made a grimace. "Call me Max, please. Mr Lestrange is a convicted Death Eater."

"Oh, right then, Max." She wiped her dress to make sure she was presentable. "I think I will go back inside."

He nodded. "I'll return in a minute… I really just came out here to relieve my bladder and I think it really is time now." He winked and disappeared into the woods.

Hermione laughed and returned to the ballroom. The first thing she noticed was that most of the people were gone. Before she had time to wonder where they all went, Voldemort approached her.

"Hello, wife," he said and captured her in his arms and led her out to the dance floor. "Where have you been?"

"Narcissa wanted to show me the garden," Hermione said truthfully. "But then she left and I just… well, wandered around. People are staring at me, if you haven't noticed."

"Hm," he said and looked at her with a frown. "Why did you dance with Severus?"

"Snape? Well, he asked me. I didn't think I could say no."

"He asked you?" Voldemort asked in disbelief. "Severus hates dancing."

"If you have to know, he just wanted to ask me how I was doing. He was my teacher for seven years."

"That was awfully nice of him." The band started to play faster and Hermione could barley keep up with Voldemort. Her feet and back was hurting.

"Yes, I think so too," Hermione said. She was getting very sweaty. "Can't we sit? I'm very tired."

Voldemort huffed and as they danced, he led her toward the stairs. A moment later, they were on the platform.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

He didn't answer. He looked around and pushed her into an alcove. Hermione stumbled and he captured her between the wall and his own body.

"It's time for the night's entertainment," he whispered. "It's like the gladiator games in ancient Rome. It may seem a little rough for someone like you. Try to remember that both Muggles and wizards have enjoyed these games for thousands of years and you will not be able to change anything. Just sit back and relax and don't show any emotions."

He pulled her back out again and continued to drag her down a hall. Old pictures of long dead wizards and witches were hanging on the wall, but Hermione didn't have time to really see any of them. All she saw were aristocratic wizards and witches in different environments. Blue and green seemed to be the major colours.

It took a couple of minutes for them to arrive at what Hermione initially thought to be a basement, but it couldn't be because they walked up stairs, not down. However, when they fully entered she realized it was an arena. It looked very much like the Coliseum in Rome, with an arena made of sand and the seats placed high above it. The Dark Mark was hanging on a banner on the opposite wall from where they were standing, some 50 yards away. Voldemort led her toward the most prominent seats, throne-like for a king and his queen.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, my Lord." Lucius was standing in the middle of the arena. "Tonight you will see extraordinary fight between animals, Muggles and wizards. First up, a bloodthirsty tigress against the eight-legged Acromantula."

People cheered, and Hermione felt slightly sick. She never enjoyed fighting; especially not one as brutal as she was certain this would turn out.

Each fight was more horrible than the one before. Hermione tried not to feel sympathy when the blood oozed from the witches skull, or when the tigress got smashed into pieces. Hermione was pinching herself so hard she started to bleed. After a while, Voldemort took her hand and forced her to stop the pinching. He hadn't said a thing during the show, but now he leaned toward her.

"You look horrified," he whispered. "This game will be over soon, if you can't look natural by then, I won't be pleased."

Hermione closed her eyes. She remembered her Occlumency lessons. Empty your mind. Remus taught her how to find inner peace and not show your emotions until you were alone. When she opened her eyes again, Lucius was just about to declare the winner. There were a lot of cheers and disappointed groans when people won or lost money on their bets. Voldemort rose and she followed him. He went to Narcissa and waited for Lucius to get out from the arena.

"It was a superb evening, Lucius. I'm pleased," Voldemort said and placed his hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"Thank you, my Lord," Lucius said and bowed. "You and your wife are, of course, welcomed back."

Voldemort squeezed her shoulder.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mr and Mrs Malfoy," Hermione said and bowed her head at them.

"Anytime, Mrs Riddle," Narcissa said.

Voldemort nodded and led Hermione out from the arena. Hermione didn't see a thing. She was too busy controlling her emotions. When he Apparated them to their home, she finally let the tears fall.

"You did well," Voldemort said. She sank down on the bed as the tears ran freely. "You may take your friend home at the end of the year."

She cried herself to sleep.

That night, she dreamt something special. She was back at the arena. However, it wasn't the one in Lucius' home. This was the real thing. The Coliseum in Rome. She was watching the fighters. Some of them were too wounded to stand up. An old man was walking around and let the fighters drink from a stone cup. A moment later, they were dead with a peaceful look on their tortured faces.

She sat up in her bed and breathed; "The Cup of death is in Rome!"


	11. Chapter 11

Hi there! I'm so sorry it has taken such a long time to update. My beta has been very busy and she has only been able to look through this chapter once! Now I also got an e-mail and I was sorry to hear that she won't be able to beta my chapters anymore. I would be very grateful if someone else would like to help me? I would like to improve my English even more and sometimes I hear that some stuff in my story doesn't make any sense! So, if someone would like to try to beta my story, please send me a PM or a review and I'll get back to you!

**Warning! Chapter contains smut!**

* * *

Chapter 11

"_The Cup of death has been in Rome!"_

Voldemort was startled awake when his wife suddenly shrieked. He sat up just in time to see her naked little backside as she tripped and then made her way over to the bookshelf, quickly pulling out a book.

"Ah! I knew it!" She went back to the bed and placed the book in front of him.

He stared at the page she presented to him. Then he looked up and just watched her. She appeared exalted. He looked out through the window. "The sun isn't even up yet! We've only slept for about an hour!"

"Read," she ordered.

It was too early for a fight, even for him, so he just sighed and read the page. It was a story about a monk who felt pity over the gladiators. He blessed them with the Holy Cup of Death. It was a small stone Cup with strange symbols…

"Fine, you're right… can I sleep now?"

"Okay!" she crawled under the covers and fell asleep in a moment. Voldemort stared at her. Had she been sleepwalking? Deciding it was too early to find out, Voldemort closed his eyes and sleep claimed him.

The next time he woke up, it was well past his normal wakeup time. His wife was still asleep next to him. The sun was shining through the window. He guessed it was around nine or ten in the morning. The girl mumbled something and he remembered the book she had showed him. He took it and found the page. It was more a myth than fact, however, the details of the story made him think.

Two Cups… they seemed to have been all over the world. Why and how? What were they made off? If he only knew what the symbols looked like…

He needed the Cups. He was certain they were his way to immortality. It would be hard to find them, but he would.

The girl mumbled again. She turned and she accidentally touched him. For some strange reason, it made him shiver. Probably because of the forced intimacy. She was always there and he should be used to it but that didn't mean that he had to like it. He hated the girl for not giving him the space he needed. It would probably be even worse once the child was born. Nevertheless, he could use _it_ for so much. Just the picture of him with a baby would give him a lot of new followers. People, who earlier thought he was just a cruel unfeeling devil, would see him as a family man. A loving husband and a father… that propaganda picture was too good to just turn down.

He smiled and placed a hand on her stomach. He always managed to turn things to his advantage.

The girl stirred and then opened her eyes.

"Good morning," he purred.

She frowned. "What?"

"Well, since I was so generous last night… perhaps you should repay the favour."

Her eyes narrowed. "Generous? You threatened to kill my friend if I didn't act perfectly!"

"Nevertheless, you succeeded. You will be taking your friend home… around Christmas. That is very generous of me. You will be able to see your friends."

"Oh, how incredibly nice of you," she sneered. "I do everything for you, and you grant me with one night off!"

He frowned. "You don't seem to realise how much power I have, wife. I can do whatever I want with you. I have left you alone for over two months, mostly because I haven't had time. Now, I don't have anything to do, and I want to have sex." To mark his words, he rolled on top of her. "We can do this the hard way, or I could make you enjoy it as well. Your choice."

She didn't look happy, but she sighed and nodded.

"Good girl," he said and bent down to kiss her neck, and up to the area around her ear. His hands came to her breasts and he started to caress them. Foreplay could be funny. Not just in the sexual arena either. It was very arousing to drive people to their pecks before you began with the good stuff.

However, as he was about to get to the _good stuff_, the girl sat up and pushed him off.

"I need to pee," she said matter-of-factly and rolled out of bed.

"Now?" he asked in disbelief.

She was already halfway through the room. "Blame yourself, I'm pregnant."

He groaned and looked down at his semi-erect cock. Damn, he wanted to fuck his wife. He felt like a randy little teenage boy. The Dark Lord shouldn't have problems like this. It was all her fault.

The girl came back a couple of minutes later. He was standing on his knees in the bed and when she came closer, he grabber her and kissed her harshly. His hand came up to her arse and he grasped it tightly. She made a small noise of surprise, but it changed into a moan when his lips moved to her throat. He sucked hard and dragged his nails slowly over her back. She placed her hands on his back and caressed him down to his arse. He hissed as she tried to push his groin closer to her.

He took a firm grip of her waist and turned her around so she was standing on her knees in the bed with her back against him. He attacked her neck again. His left hand sneaked down over her round stomach and down to her mound. He caressed her for a moment and his right hand came up to her breast. She moaned.

"I told you, I can make you like it," he whispered into her ear as his left hand teased her labia. "It all comes down to practise. Do you know how many I've had sex with?"

She shook her head.

"Seven. I'm very picky. It's hard to find obeying women these days. I always have to train them. You are the hardest. Mostly because I can't punish you when you don't do what I want." At that moment he pushed a finger inside her. "What do you think we should do about that?"

"Just shut up and fuck me," she mumbled. "You are ruining it by talking."

He removed his finger from her pussy and placed it against her lips. "Suck."

"Wh…" He interrupted her by shoving his finger into her mouth. She made a small noise of surprise.

"Suck," he said again. She did, hard, with her teeth. He moaned. "I guess you are still too headstrong for me to let you suck my cock." He removed his finger.

"I would never… oh!" He pushed her forward so she was standing on all four. His hands came to her hips and he adjusted her so he would be able to penetrate her from behind. He pushed into her.

"One day, you will," he mumbled as he slowly moved in and out. He continued with the slow movements for a while. The girl was groaning and trying to make him move faster. He pulled out teased her clit with his fingers instead. She rubbed herself against his fingers, leaving a wet trail.

"Someone is horny," he mumbled. He was quite horny himself, but it was more fun teasing her than fucking her. "All because of me…" He ran his fingers down her thighs. She was trembling. He shivered and closed his eyes. He couldn't loose control now. Even if he just wanted to press himself into her delicious little body and fuck her until she screamed. He needed to remind her that he was in power.

With quick movements, he had her on her back again. He made himself comfortable and started to rub his blood-filled cock against her cunt. She moaned. He pressed his lips against hers for a moment. He could feel her heartbeats through them. Or perhaps it was his he felt? Her scent was intoxicating. He couldn't describe it. If he would give it a colour, he would say she smelt green. He had always liked green… She looked nice in green…

He opened his eyes and pulled away from her. What the hell was he thinking? He forced himself inside her again. She shrieked in surprise. His mouth was on her neck and he could feel blood on his tongue. He rubbed her clit with his hand and felt her tightening around him. She was about to come. He needed to come. Thoughts like this were signs of weakness. He didn't like her. She didn't smell like green. He didn't care what she smelt like. He. Didn't. Like. Her!

She came with a small scream and he followed quickly. His lips came in contract with hers again. He had only kissed one girl before. The first girl he shagged. She had been good-looking enough and he had been curious about sex. She taught him all she knew, which wasn't much. She had only been seventeen years old. He had been fifteen. He hadn't liked the kissing. She had been all giddy about the exchange of saliva, but he just thought it was boring.

Now… this girl's kisses were something else. He hated her for making him kiss her. Kisses were for weak people. Just like alcohol, drugs and sugar. It was addictive.

She nibbled his lower lip in post-orgasmic bliss and her hand came up to his hair. For a moment, just one moment, he let himself get carried away. He kissed her as he caressed her cheek. Then he rolled off her and onto his back. He closed his eyes. The girl was really under his skin. How would he survive this?

"Damn," she whispered. "That was… intense…"

He couldn't resist smirking. "So you liked it?"

"I would be lying if I said no. Nevertheless, you will always be a prick, even if you are good in bed," she mumbled.

"At least you are honest."

She was quiet for a while. "Who were the other six?"

He opened his eyes and turned toward her. "What?"

She looked at him with curious eyes. "The other six you have slept with."

"Why would I answer that?"

"You could ask me something. We know nothing about each other."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, that is because none of us wants to give away something important. We are married, that doesn't mean we trust each other."

"It's just about sex!"

"Why are you always so damn talkative?" he growled, even if he found her amusing.

"I'm just curious…"

"Fine. But I'll ask you something later, and you'll have to answer."

"Okay."

He sighed and stared into the ceiling. "The first one was a girl in school, Sarah… something. I don't know what happened to her, I never saw her after she finished Hogwarts. The second one was a woman in Egypt. I was there for about a year when I was in my mid twenties. She was very masochistic. I could do anything I wanted with her. She killed herself in the end. The third one was a young dark witch in South America. She knew everything about the Amazonas. I killed her when we had a disagreement about an artefact we both wanted." He paused and looked down at the girl's hand that was playing with his chest hair. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry," she mumbled and let go of him. "Continue."

"Hmm… right. The fourth one was an elder lady in France. Very rich and powerful. In exchanged for sex, she gave me everything she owned. Including some magical artefacts I had been looking for, for a very long time. Then she accidently fell down the stairs." He smirked at the memory.

"The fifth one was another very masochistic girl. I tortured her for information and she had an orgasm. Then I fucked her and got the information I wanted. She was my servant for many years before the Aurors killed her. The sixth one was another servant. She was a bit stubborn at first, but I made her turn out nicely… I haven't touched her for twenty years…"

"Is she still your servant?" The girl asked, surprised.

"Oh, no. I think you were the one responsible for her imprisonment. She received the Dementor's Kiss." He turned toward her with a wicked smile. "So, now I think I'll ask you some questions."

She smiled softly. He guessed she was still a bit high from the orgasm. Not that he minded…

"Have you and Potter ever had feelings for each other?"

"No, never," she answered with a smile.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, yes. I don't even think Harry sees me as a girl."

He smirked. "Well, no one would ever blame you for acting like a proper girl."

She arched her eyebrows. "I don't know if I'll take that as a compliment or not."

"It wasn't meant as one. Whom have you been involved with?"

"Well, Ron… and you."

He stared at her in disbelief. "No one else?"

"No… I went to a school ball with Victor Krum, but we live in different countries. It was only a fling. I was never in love with him."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "How many close friends did you have when you were in school."

"Two… First Ron and Harry, then Harry and Remus."

"Didn't you feel lonely?"

She shrugged. "Not really… Not until I married you."

He smiled, she smiled back. Then she froze. "Damn."

"What?" he asked.

"I promised I would visit Ginny when I came back last night!" She got out from the bed and pulled a robe around her. He cursed silently when she disappeared through the door to her friend. Just one tiny little orgasm and he got soft and told her about his former sex partners. He cursed again and rolled out of bed. She would pay for making him all bleeding soft. He would make her pay…

xxx

Hermione couldn't help but smile when she went to Ginny's room. Her theory was correct. Voldemort was indeed much nicer and informative when they had sex. Now, she was aching a little between her legs, in a good way. Something had been different this time and she felt more positive than ever. At first, he had been his normal, sadistic self, however in the end she could tell something had been different.

When she opened the door, Ginny was sitting in the corner of the room, hugging herself. She looked very scared.

"Ginny!" Hermione's eyes widened. "What's the matter?"

Ginny flew up and threw herself at her. "I thought they had done something to you. I thought they would come back and torture me again!" The younger girl was crying.

Hermione berated herself. She knew Ginny was scared about being taken away again. And being locked inside a small dark room all day didn't help her either.

"Hush, Ginny, don't cry. Nothing will happen to you…" Hermione tried to comfort her as she led her to the bed. "It's okay. I'm sorry I couldn't come by last night. My husband forced me to act perfectly. I was exhausted by the time I came home. But I did it; I will take you home by the end of the year. You'll be home for Christmas."

Ginny looked up. Hermione could see she didn't believe her.

For the rest of the day, Hermione stayed with Ginny. She fell asleep early in the evening. She hadn't been able to sleep the entire night before. Hermione felt guilty for not visiting her; however, a part of her was glad Ginny was leaving. She loved to have a friend around; however, she would be happier if she didn't have to play the strong and supporting one all the time. She couldn't complain about her position when Ginny had it so much worse.

Voldemort was sitting on the couch with a book when she returned. He looked up and scowled. "Haven't you taken a shower since we had sex?"

She looked down at the robe. "Hm… no, I haven't had the time yet."

"Well, hurry up then, I just got a report from Switzerland and I want to fly before it gets too dark!"

She frowned. "Why do I have to go?"

He got up and walked toward her. "Because I will raid a very old library, and most of my minions would just throw them in a sack and… well, you are one of the few people under my control I know I can trust with rare, valuable books." He placed a hand on her shoulder and started led her to the bathroom. "So get that pretty little arse of yours into the shower!"

"But…" Hermione tried to protest. He ignored her and made her step into the bathroom and pulled off her robe before he pushed her into the shower. He was about to turn on the water when he hesitated. His eyes were on her neck.

"What?" she asked.

"I didn't realise…" He lifted his hand and touched her neck with a surprised expression. "I bit you… Didn't it hurt?"

She frowned. "What…?" She stepped out from the shower and went over to the mirror. She had a bite mark on her neck. Dried blood was still around it. How couldn't she have felt this?

"Why didn't the Contract hurt me?" Voldemort asked.

"Well, it does look like the Contract doesn't work if we aren't aware of the fact that we are hurting each other," she said, then added. "Or perhaps it didn't count because I was too aroused to feel it?"

"Really?" He started to smirk. "I have to see what more I can do when you are aroused, then."

Hermione paled. "W-what?"

"Perhaps I can try spanking next time…" He seemed thoughtful, but then shook his head. "Enough. I want to leave. Hurry." He left the bathroom and Hermione stared after him.

She shook her head, deciding to think about it later. According to Voldemort, she would be visiting a very old library and that made her exited. Half an hour later she was standing inside their bedroom again. She had already sneaked into Ginny's room with a couple of books and a letter, describing where she was. Voldemort was in the bathroom. Hermione couldn't resist smiling as she sat down on the couch. The Dark Lord just wasn't scary when she could hear him pee. It was so… normal.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked when he came back out.

"Nothing," she said and got up. "Shall we?" She made a gesture toward the door.

He nodded. "I didn't think you wanted to leave."

"It was before you told me we would go to a library," she answered.

"Raiding a library," he corrected her.

"Well, books are made for reading…," she mumbled. She couldn't help but feel excited about the books. She knew it was nerdy, but she loved them. She loved to read rare books, to find knowledge no one else had read in centuries. It made her giddy. When she first saw the Hogwarts' library, she almost fainted from excitement.

She was a nerd. That was one reason why she hadn't had so many friends.

Voldemort smiled at her. "Of course, dear," he said and put an arm around her. "If it makes you feel better."

She rolled her eyes at him and he let go. They went to the same balcony from where they had travelled the last time. This time, they weren't alone. She recognised professor Snape and Max Lestrange, not the other two. One of them was a tall man with a serious face, and the other one was a young woman who looked too happy to be a real Death Eater. She also looked down at her feet and fingered her long red braid when Voldemort looked at her.

Voldemort placed his hand on her shoulder. "Wife… you already know Severus, although I don't think you have met Maxemillius Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov? Or Miss Radcliff?"

The red haired girl smiled at Hermione. Max grinned and Dolohov nodded. Snape merely arched an eyebrow. Hermione smiled at them in greeting.

"Now, you all know the destination. Antonin and Miss Radcliff will flying above me, Severus and Mr Lestrange will be flying beneath me." Everyone went to their brooms. Hermione realised she didn't have one. Voldemort held out his. "I remember how afraid you where last time." He smiled at her.

Hermione scowled, but mounted the broom. Voldemort mounted behind her and they took off. Like last time, he held a firm grip around her waist. She could feel his breath against her cheek. This time, she didn't mind leaning against him. She was feeling a bit sleepy and she must have dozed off, because it only felt like minutes before they arrived at snowy mountains. She gasped. The moon was rising over the tops of the Alps. Hermione was grateful for the warming spell Voldemort cast. It was a clear and chilly night.

They landed on a small platform on the side of a mountain. A fortress was built into the mountain. It seemed to be recently restored into a liveable castle, but at the moment no one appeared to be living there.

"The owner found a secret library in a catacomb," Voldemort explained in a low voice to her. "He was a Muggle and he died when he entered it. The authorities of Switzerland have been notified and one of my agents there informed me. They won't be here until tomorrow, but by then we will have taken everything we want."

Hermione just nodded and followed him up to the fortress. She thought it looked scary. It was dark and unfriendly. She shivered as they went up the stairs. The gate into the fortress was big, perhaps thirteen feet high. They entered a small courtyard and walked across up a set of stairs before they arrived into the entrance hall. It was dark, so Voldemort and the others lit torches with their wands. They went down some stairs and deeper into the mountain. Hermione couldn't help but feel a little nervous. She had never liked narrow passages. Especially not dark ones.

"I can feel magic coming from here," Voldemort said in a low voice when they came to a crossroad. He led them to the left. They walked for almost ten minutes when Voldemort and Dolohov both held out their hands to stop them.

"It's a quite powerful ward," Voldemort mumbled. He held out his wand and did some complicated movements. "Antonin?"

The other man nodded and held out his wand as he mumbled an incantation. A moment later, Voldemort continued to walk. The others followed when he obviously wasn't burned to death. They had all spotted a corpse lying a few feet away. Hermione shivered as she past the burned remains.

A moment later, the passage turned into a large hall. She gasped when she saw all the shelves filled with books.

"We don't have much time," Voldemort said. "Transfigure something into boxes and take all the books you haven't read. Wear protective gloves and don't open any books! I can feel Dark Arts here."

Everyone started to get ready. Dolohov and Snape disappeared in different directions. Max followed quickly.

"Wife," Voldemort said. "You'll be working with Miss Radcliff."

She made a grimace at his order before she followed the red haired woman.

"Shall we start here?" Hermione asked.

The other woman nodded, put on her gloves and made a box appear next to them. They started to pull out books from the shelves and read the titles. There were many Hermione had only heard about before, but never read. She carefully placed them in the box. The other woman barely looked at the titles; she just placed them in the box very carefully.

"You read a lot?" Miss Radcliff wondered and nodded at the pile Hermione had placed on the floor instead of in the box.

Hermione nodded. "We have most of them in our bookshelf at home."

"Oh, okay. I don't read books like this…"

"You seem to know your way around old objects," Hermione noticed.

"Ahuh, I work in an antique bookstore in Knockturn Alley. It's mostly Dark Art's books, so you have to be careful. But I don't read them. If I read, I read Muggle novels. I think they are so romantic." She grinned sheepishly. "But I heard you are a Mud… Muggle-born, so I guess you know."

"Yes, I I've read tons of romantic novels," Hermione confessed. "How did you end up here?"

The other woman shrugged. "I needed the money. My uncle is a Death Eater and when he heard that the Dark Lord needed help with old books, he gave him my name. Not many Death Eaters are into books…"

"Who is your uncle," Hermione asked curiously.

"Walden McNair. He is my mother's brother. I have worked with the Death Eaters before… They often call for me when they need help with some old dark artefact. Some of them are very clumsy and that isn't good when you are dealing with curses. I would never trigger a curse." She appeared to be proud.

"Oh… were you at the Malfoy's last night?"

She shook her head as she carefully wrapped some paper around a very old book. "No… I wasn't invited."

"Well, you didn't miss anything," Hermione said. "Unless you like to hear mindless gossip about who is married to whom."

She giggled. "Not so much."

They moved to the next shelf. Hermione left about twenty-five books and Miss Radcliff only two.

"When are you due?" The other woman asked after a while.

Hermione looked down on her stomach. "In March."

"Are you looking forward to it?"

"Well…" Hermione hesitated. Voldemort had said that they were officially happy about the baby, however, this woman appeared to be much nicer than the others. "I guess I don't know if I really understand it yet. It all happened so quickly…. But we are happy."

Miss Radcliff looked a bit sad. "I almost had a baby once…"

"Oh? What happened?"

"Miscarriage. It's not so strange… people like me just don't have children. However, I can't help but want one."

Hermione wanted to ask what she meant with "people like me", but decided to ask Voldemort later. Miss Radcliff seemed to take for granted that she already knew. Perhaps this was like Max being a bastard. It was just something people knew.

"How sad," she said instead. "How old are you?"

"Thirty. No one believes me when I say it," she grinned. Hermione noticed that she had quite big teeth. "And you?"

"Twenty."

"Yeah? Did you just graduate from Hogwarts then?"

Hermione nodded. "This past summer."

"Wow, and you just decided to marry the Dark Lord?" she asked. She didn't sound mean, just curious.

"Well, not really." Hermione hesitated again and pretended to look at the book she was holding. It was an old German book from the mid seventeenth century. She didn't understand the title, although she guessed it was about magical creatures. "What has he told you about our marriage?"

"Me?" she snorted. "Someone like him doesn't talk to someone like me. Well, unless in cases like this… But there are tons of rumours."

"Really? What are people saying?"

"Well, most of them are just jealous. Some say that you promised to kill Harry Potter if the Dark Lord married you."

"That's absurd!" Hermione said with wide eyes.

Miss Radcliff shrugged. "Well, other says that you put a love spell over the Dark Lord. But no one really believes that. He is the most powerful wizard alive, I mean."

Hermione just nodded. "What else do they say?"

"Hm… That the Dark Lord knocked you up and decided to marry you. That Dumbledore forced you two to marry so you could spy on him. That you have changed sides and the Dark Lord really likes you… I guess none of that is true."

"How come?"

"Well, he obviously doesn't let you have a wand. And if you were a spy, I think he would have killed you by now. So that only leaves one theory."

"And what is that?"

"That you two are under a marriage Contract." Miss Radcliff blew some dust off a book. She narrowed her eyes as she read the title, but then shrugged and placed it in the box.

Hermione looked down at the book she was holding. "Do people really think I have betrayed Harry?"

The other woman shrugged. "I think they are just jealous. Many witches wants to be the Dark Lady, and… well, you are a Muggle-born. People aren't fond of it. I hear about it every day at the shop. However, I don't care about the gossip…"

"Okay," Hermione said and slowly placed the book in the box and then got up on a ladder Miss Radcliff had conjured. Hermione could see a big black book up there and she tried to reach it when…

"NO, DON'T!"

Hermione had just touched the book with her fingertip when Miss Radcliff pulled her down from the ladder. Hermione hardly noticed that she landed onto hard stone because she was too busy screaming from a burning pain in her finger. Half of her hand was already consumed by a dark fire and it was slowly spreading to the rest of her body. Somehow she knew that the glove was still protecting her hand, but for how long? She could feel the heat, her arm only protected to her elbow. Now she could feel the fire on her finger! It had burnt through the glove! Oh, pain!

She must have blacked out, because the next moment, she was lying with her head in someone's lap and she couldn't see the fire any more. All she could feel was a throbbing sensation in her left hand and a terrible body ache. It took a moment before she realised she was crying.

Someone was holding a hand on her cheek, so she couldn't turn her head toward her left. Someone else was holding her left hand. She felt a cold sensation in that hand. She realised that the mumbling she heard was people talking. Only two people. She tried to focus on them instead of the pain.

"… no other choice." That was Snape's voice. "And we have to act fast."

"Then you'll have to do it." That was Voldemort. She realised it was his lap she was lying in. He didn't sound happy. "Quickly."

Hermione didn't have time to wonder what they were talking about. In the next moment, she felt like someone ripped off her middle finger. She screamed. Her world went foggy again.

* * *

So, if anyone feel like they got the knowledge and the time to beta my story, I would love to hear from you! Until then, I'll post unbetaed chapter (I go through them myself, but I know I miss things).


	12. Chapter 12

I'm so, so sorry that is has taken so long for me to update! It was a bit difficult to find a new beta... However, now I think I'm satisfied! Lady-Gizzy have been nice enough to look through this chapter, so.... thank you so much! I hope the rest of you will enjoy the chapter as well! Hopefully I'll be able to update more often now when I have Lady-Gizzy to help me!

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 12

When Hermione woke up, she was back in her own bed. She turned her head to her right and saw Voldemort sat reading in an armchair next to her. She took a deep breath and he looked up and smiled. Why did he appear so relived?

"You are awake," he noticed. He leaned forward and placed a hand on her forehead. "And the fever is gone. Can you speak?"

She had to clear her throat before she could answer "Of course I can."

"Excellent. You gave me quite a scare. However, it seems like you and the baby are stronger than I thought." He placed a hand on her stomach and caressed it.

She frowned. Why was he being so nice?

"What happened?" she asked.

His hand travelled up to her head again and he stroked her cheek. "You touched a book about the Dark Arts. A very, very dangerous book. You would have died if it weren't for Miss Radcliff, Snape and I. You have been unconscious for almost a day. I was a little worried when you got a fever, but I suppose it's understandable…"

"Why?"

He smiled as though he was talking to a small child. "Well, there are always complications when someone is hit by such a powerful curse. You were lucky, however…" He gripped her left hand and showed it to her. "Once the curse reaches the body, there is little one can do. Let this be a lesson for you to be more careful." He kissed her cheek and rose from the armchair.

Hermione stared at her hand. It looked perfectly normal… except that half her middle finger was missing.

xxx

Hermione tried to tell herself that it wasn't a big deal. Unfortunately, there was no way to grow her finger back because it had been ripped off by Dark Magic. Nevertheless, it was just a small part of her left hand. A hand she hardly used. She was right handed.

However, through the next couple of weeks, she found herself staring at what was left of her finger. It looked quite appalling. Ginny started to cry when she saw it. Hermione didn't cry. She just tried not to think about it.

In the middle of December, Voldemort grew tired of finding her staring at the finger instead of reading about the Cups. He charmed her finger so it appeared to be whole, even if it wasn't. Hermione didn't have any feeling in the finger, but at least it didn't look so revolting. She could finally concentrate on her work.

The raid in Switzerland had been a success and she found herself with hundreds of new books. Voldemort removed all books which could be mortally dangerous, but she couldn't help but to be extra careful. Every time she reached for a new book, she touched it with a quill before she touched it with her own hands.

The book she found most interesting was the book written by Helga Hufflepuff's grandson. He wrote everything there was to know about the famous fonder. He even mentioned the Cup some times. Helga used it to provide food for everyone at the school. She also used the Cup for Healing. The school rules hadn't been clear those days, and with so many young wizards and witches, accidents were doomed to happen. Thanks to Helga and the Cup, almost everyone survived.

xxx

Late one night, just a week before Christmas, Hermione was sitting next to the fire in the library. It hadn't begun to snow yet, but it was very cold in the room. She had been reading the book all day.

She turned to the next page.

_My grandmother often told us about her friends; __Godric__, Rowena and Salazar. My mother told me that grandmother was the only one who cried when Salazar left them. Grandmother always loved everyone. That is why I wasn't surprised when Salazar on day appeared on our doorstep. It was just before grandmother died and she was too weak to get up form the bed. Surprisingly, they had an argument about grandmother's magical Goblet. He accused her for hiding it from him. She told him it was because she wanted to save him from himself. Immortality is a curse, not something to yearn for, she said. He laughed at her and ordered her to give him the Goblet. She told him the truth, that she had already given it to my sister Marion so she could help the helpless Muggles in our country. He left her. I took my horse and rode to Sherwood Forest to warn my sister. Thankfully, Salazar never found her._

Hermione closed the book. So the Cup of Life had been here in England, somewhere around the thirteenth century. Hermione frowned. What happened to the Cup when Marion died? And what about the Cup of Death? It was clear that Slytherin thought the Cup could give him immortality. No wonder Voldemort thought the same. At least she could be sure the Cups existed. She had enough different sources to draw that conclusion.

Now they had to find out if the writer of the diary from the eighteenth century was right when he claimed that he had seen both of the Cups. He had said that one Cup was still in "the Nordic lands" which could mean Britannia, but also Scandinavia. South America was quite big as well. She needed to narrow down the area. Where should she search? It was just like the time they had searched for Nicolas Flamel. She was still beating herself up for not remembering where she had read his name sooner.

With some difficulty, she got up from the armchair. Her stomach was quite big now; as she was in her sixth month. She was a bit anxious about meeting everyone at Christmas. Ginny was still uncomfortable with Hermione's pregnancy. How would the others take it? She still didn't know how she felt about it! She could feel the baby move and kick sometimes, however, it still felt quite unreal.

She took the Floo back to their bedroom. Voldemort was already in bed. He hadn't been around for two days, so she was quite surprised to see him. He had been away on some secret mission.

"Hello," he said as she waddled toward the bed. He looked very tired and content.

"I trust everything went well?" she asked with an uncertain feeling. If things were well for him, it usually meant that it was bad for someone else.

"Oh, yes." He said with a smirk.

Hermione massaged her back as she sat down. She never thought about the ache when she was reading, but it always nagged her when she was about to sleep. Another thing that nagged her was the horniness she was experiencing. Voldemort hadn't made a move on her since the morning after Halloween and she tried to work out her courage to ask him… But not tonight. He was tired.

"How are you?" he asked.

Another thing she thought about a lot was their relationship. She was sure he would still kill her if he got the chance. Most times, she wanted to kill him. However, since they couldn't they had reached some kind of peace. They didn't talk about their many differences. If they talked, it was about their research of the Cups, books and things like that. She realised that there was no reason to argue with him, because they were both too stubborn to get anywhere. She just tried to live with him. That meant she had to ignore what he did. All she could do was to lay low until the baby was born and try to slip messages to Snape when she met him, which wasn't often.

"My back and feet are hurting," she said and tried to reach a spot on her back. "Don't you think I should visit a Healer? Just to see that everything is okay with the baby?"

"Why not," he said and placed his hand on her back and started to massage it. "I hired a female Healer for my Death Eaters months ago. I could talk to her."

"Thank you." Hermione closed her eyes as his hands wandered over her back. "Wow, that mission must have gone very well."

"It did. Are you still planning to go with your friend to her home on Christmas Eve?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I?" she asked suspiciously.

"No reason. But I will take protective measures to make sure nothing happens to you. A shielding charm and a Portkey, I think." His hands came up to her shoulders.

"Who did you kill?" she asked with a frosty feeling in her stomach.

"No one, actually. But you know the Order. They don't like me." He kissed her neck and Hermione was sure he had done something she wouldn't like. "Did you like the book from Hufflepuff's grandson?"

"It was very interesting. I think the Cups exist, but we have to narrow down the search. And don't you think someone should have seen them for the last 250 years." She rearranged the covers over her body. "However, I have no idea where to search, and since I still don't know what you will do with them once you have them… You know I don't want to help you."

"Ah, but you are too curious to _not_ help me," he said with a smirk. "Besides, I could just force you to do it."

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I know."

"So don't feel guilty." He lay down on his back again.

"Strangely enough, I don't," she confessed. The truth was that she didn't feel guilty because she hoped Dumbledore would find the Cups before Voldemort did. She hadn't felt guilty about it since she talked to Snape.

"That's my girl," he mumbled.

"I'm not your girl," she reminded him.

He waved his hand and the lights went out. Then he placed his hand on her stomach.

"If you say so." She could hear him smirk.

She sighed and fell asleep.

xxx

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Hermione awoke with a knot in her stomach. A nervous knot, not just the baby.

She didn't know why, but she had never liked Christmas Eve. Christmas Day was always fun because you began the day with getting a lot of presents, however Christmas Eve was… unpleasant. She didn't have any first cousins, since none of her parents had any siblings. Until she was ten, they spent every Christmas at her grandmother's house. Hermione always thought her grandmother was scary. The food was disgusting and the house smelt like something had died in it. After the age of five, her parents always made sure she got a good meal before they went to her grandmother. They didn't want her to get cranky.

Hermione's grandmother had been a bitter old lady. She lost her husband in World War II and she took every opportunity she got to nag about the Germans. When Hermione got older, she realised that her grandmother was just very sad and didn't know how to deal with it.

When Hermione was ten, her grandmother passed away and the Granger's tried to start a new tradition; celebrating Christmas with Hermione's dad's uncle. The uncle had three children and all of them had a couple of children each. Since Hermione was the kind of girl she was, the other children thought she was weird. They didn't invite her to any games, but one of the adults saw it and forced the other children to play card with her. Hermione hadn't liked it. They all cheated and invented new rules. In the end, she had just gone to her father's uncle's bookshelf and picked down a book about cars. It wasn't funny, but it was better than the card game.

They did this for two years in a row, but when Hermione got her letter from Hogwarts, they decided to just stay home. Hermione had spent the whole vacation trying to explain to her parents what magic was. They had only been confused. Christmas was an uncomfortable thing that year. The only happy Christmas she had had was the ones she had spent in the Burrow or at Hogwarts. Her parents just didn't understand her the way her friends did.

This Christmas Eve, she would meet her friends again. However, for some reason, she didn't think it would be as fun as the others had been…

"What are you thinking about?" Voldemort asked and broke through her unhappy thoughts.

They were eating breakfast. Or, at least he was eating breakfast; she was just playing with her food.

"Just my parents," she mumbled.

"Oh."

She looked up. "_Oh?_"

He was frowning. "It never occurred to me that you have… well, parents. I now realise you must have. You are still so young."

She stared at him in disbelief. "What do you mean 'it never occurred to you', you were the one who killed them!"

He looked very surprised. "Killed them? Whatever for?"

"Well, because I'm a Mudblood and friends with Harry Potter! Who else would have taken them if it wasn't you?"

"Wait. Now I'm confused. You accuse me for murdering your parents… but now you say that they were taken?"

"Well, we never found their bodies." Hermione felt like someone had thrown cold water over her. "I just assumed you or your Death Eaters had taken them."

He seemed thoughtful. "Well, I see why you would blame me. When did they disappear?"

"Almost three years ago," she said.

"Hmm." He rose from the armchair. "I am quite sure we had nothing to do with it, but I'll look into it. We keep records of all important people we murder and kidnap."

"Would my parents be important?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, they are your parents, and you are Harry Potter's best friend," he said with a smile.

Hermione couldn't believe what he was saying. She had not got over her parents' disappearance, but she had accepted that she would never see them again. And now Voldemort told her he had nothing to do with it? Then who had taken them? Had they been taken at all? She didn't realise she had been talking out loud until Voldemort answered her.

"Well, the Death Eaters aren't the only people in the world who do things like that. Muggles are quite good at it too."

"But who would want to kidnap or murder my parents? They were just dentists!" She got up from the armchair as well.

"I told you I will look into it," he said. "Finish your breakfast."

Hermione looked down at the table were her half eaten sandwich still lie. "I'm not hungry."

"You will be hungry in just an hour if you don't eat now." He took a firm grip of her wrist and led her back to the table. "And by then, you'll be at the Weasleys. I will not have them believe that I don't take good care of you."

She stared at him. "Why? You don't take good care of me."

He scowled. "Yes I do. I could keep you looked inside the dungeons."

"Oh… then why don't you?"

"Because, against popular belief, I can be nice."

She frowned. "So it has nothing to do with propaganda? You don't want people to believe that I have changed side?"

"Why would you think that?" She noticed that he didn't deny it.

"Oh, I just heard that some people think that, in exchange for my knowledge of the Order, you married me."

He just snorted.

"So have you told everyone that we are under a Contract?" Hermione asked.

"I have told… some Death Eaters that we are under a Contract. They are the ones who are trying to find a way to break it. I don't have to explain myself for anyone."

"So all these rumours about me betraying Harry are just loose speculations?"

"Well, there will always be rumours." He said with a shrug as he walked towards the bathroom.

Hermione stared after him. He didn't deny that he had anything to do with the rumours. However, people had always liked to gossip. She sighed and continued with her breakfast. She managed to eat the rest of her sandwich and some yoghurt before Voldemort came back. This time he was holding a necklace in his hand.

"This will protect you against most curses. It will also transport you back to me if you are in grave danger or if you say the safe word which is 'Skolts'."

"Skolts?" she asked and looked at the necklace. It didn't look powerful. It was just a small emerald which had been shaped as a teardrop suspended on a silver chain. She held up her hair so he could place it around her neck.

"Yes, it's a small group in the north of Finland. I had to pick something I didn't think you would speak about. But if nothing happens, the Portkey will transport you back at midnight." He took a step back and looked at her. "What will you wear?"

She shrugged. "Some robes I guess."

He didn't answer. Instead, he went to their wardrobe and pulled out a dark red dress. "Put this on."

She did and he helped her button it up. "Can't I wear knickers now?"

He smirked. "I thought you had got used to living without knickers."

"I have but… there will be other men there, and you won't be there to make sure they don't get… tempted."

His eyes narrowed. "Minx."

She just smiled. She had learned a thing or two about this game since they got married. Like she had predicted, he went to get her a pair of knickers. The only problem was that they were too small. She groaned and he smirked.

"Good thing you have such a long dress, dear," he said with a smirk.

She pulled out her tongue at him. He took it as an invitation to kiss her. She didn't object. His mouth wandered down to her neck. She moaned as he started to suck. It took her a couple of moments before she realised what he was doing. She pushed him off.

He smirked. "Now no one will believe I don't take good care of you."

She touched the love bite and groaned. "You are evil."

"You like it."

"I'm pregnant, I like to eat mustard on cucumber," she retorted.

He arched his eyebrows. "_You do_?"

"Haven't you noticed?"

"No."

She rolled her eyes. It was a good they didn't spend so much time together. He would drive her insane if they did.

"Go and get your friend," Voldemort said. "I have made another Portkey that will take you to their village."

Hermione was about to go to Ginny's room when she suddenly realised she had forgot her parents. "Wait! How do I know you will tell me the truth about my parents?"

He sighed. "Why would I lie about such a thing? If it turns out my Death Eaters did take them, the worse thing you can do is refuse to talk to me. Which would be a relief, I assure you."

She made a grimace and went to get Ginny. The red haired girl was very nervous. Her hair reached over her ears now and it would take years before it reached the length she had had before she got captured. She also needed to gain a couple of stone. Hermione hoped Ginny would get much better once she came home and could eat and walk as she pleased.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked.

Ginny looked up from the bed. "What if they don't want me back?"

"Of course they do," Hermione assured her. She was more worried they wouldn't want to see _her._"Come on, my husband has made a Portkey."

Ginny nodded and took Hermione's hand. She looked down at her feet all the way back to Hermione's room. Hermione tried to be patient with her. Ginny had been through a lot. Nevertheless, did she have to act like a scared little rabbit? Hermione took a deep breath. The hormones made her very irritated.

Voldemort handed her the Portkey. Hermione made sure Ginny touched it and then closed her eyes. She felt like something took a hold around her waist and a moment later she landed ungracefully on a field. She cursed when fell down in the snow. When she got up she realised that she wasn't wet at all, only cold. Voldemort must have put some water-repellent charm on the dress. How thoughtful. She wondered why. She knew her husband well enough to understand that he had some plan about sending her here. As she and Ginny started to walk toward the Burrow, she wondered what it could be.


	13. Chapter 13

Oh, I just watched the "Story stats" and this story has now got more than 10,000 hits! Wow! And 62 alerts! I have to say that I'm a bit surprised. I didn't think that many liked Hermione/Voldemort-shippers. It's nice to know that their are other people in the world how have an... uhm... interesting sense of humor. :) I'm not alone!

Thank you Lady-Gizzy for looking through and correcting my errors!

**Warning!** In the end of this chapter, there is a small scene of smut. If you don't want to read it, just skipp the end!

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Chapter 13

It was around noon when Hermione and Ginny reached the Burrow. The younger girl didn't say a thing during the walk to the house and Hermione just enjoyed being out on her own. Voldemort had stopped taking her out running at the end of November. Her belly was a bit too big and the weather was not the best. They had been out on a couple of walks, which had always ended with arguments about different things.

Today, the weather was wonderful. The sun was shining and a thin layer of snow covered the ground. Hermione could hear noises from the Burrow before she saw it. The Weasleys were out in the garden. They seemed to have some kind of feast. Hermione stopped at the entrance of the garden, uncertain what to do. She hadn't seen them for six months. What did they think of her now?

It took almost a minute before someone noticed they were standing there. Ginny let out one loud sob and the buzz stopped. Remus was the first to look in their direction. He stopped his movement and let out a gasp. It started a chain reaction. Mrs Weasley dropped the plates she was holding and placed her hands over her gaping mouth. Mr Weasley rose from the garden chair he had been occupying and pulled out his wand. Ginny's brothers all just stared at them. Tonks was the first one to say something.

"Merlin's underpants."

Ginny began to cry harder and ran to her mother, who had begun to cry as well. Her brothers flocked around her, asking questions about how she was and what they had done to her. Hermione looked at them with a sad smile. At least she had been able to save someone from Voldemort.

"Hermione," Remus came up to her with an uncertain look on his face. "How… when… what… You are pregnant!"

Hermione looked down at her stomach. "No_... really_?"

Remus chuckled at her sarcasm and then hugged her. "How are you?"

"Still married," she said softly. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." He hugged her harder. "I have been worried about you. How did you get him to release Ginny?"

"She was my birthday present," Hermione said quietly. "When you left… well, Voldemort thought I needed a pet. I convinced him to let me take her home."

He let go of her slowly. "How?"

Hermione sighed. "I'm not sure. There was this Halloween party and I acted like a perfect little wife. He said I could take her home."

"Oh, that explains the rumours."

"What rumours?"

"That you and Voldemort are teaming up," came a voice from behind Remus.

Hermione saw Tonks coming at them. She had a suspicious look on her face.

"That's rubbish!" Hermione said. "I hate him!"

"Really?" Tonks eyes lingered at her neck. Hermione made a grimace.

"Back off, Tonks," Remus growled with an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

Tonks hair turned from blue to red and then back to blue again. She huffed and walked into the house.

"Don't mind her," Remus said and led her toward the others. "She has been a little… uneven lately."

"Why?"

Remus didn't have time to answer, because now the Weasleys noticed that she was there as well.

Mrs Weasley gave her an uncertain smile. "Ginny says that you saved her?"

"I only wish I could have saved her sooner," Hermione mumbled shyly.

Mrs Weasley hugged her. Then she gasped and took a step back. "Sweet Merlin, you're pregnant!"

"Ah, yes." Hermione bit her lip when Mrs Weasley's eyes lingered a little too long at her neck. She decided that she would bite Voldemort when she got back. Let's see what he thinks about that!

"I… I didn't realise You-Know-Who wanted a child," Mrs Weasley said and looked closely at her. "Your hair… It's different!"

Hermione grimaced. "He forced me to have it fixed because _he _couldn't stand it."

Mrs Weasley simply nodded, Hermione wasn't sure if it was an understanding nod or a sympathetic nod.

Mr Weasley came up to them. He too hugged Hermione. "Thank you for bringing back our daughter."

"I just hope she will be happier here. She has been very depressed," Hermione said in a low voice and looked at Ginny. She was sitting next to her oldest brother Bill.

"This calls for a celebration!" Mrs Weasley said in a too cheerful voice. "I'll make a cake!"

Hermione suspected that Mrs Weasley really just wanted to cry in peace and get a grip of the situation. Mr Weasley followed her into the house. Remus led Hermione to a garden chair and asked her to sit down. Hermione took the opportunity to look around. Everything looked exactly the same. The house still looked like it was only held up by magic. Despite the snow, the garden was full of different things. A hen was picking the frozen ground a couple of yards away. Someone had placed a tent over the brown garden furniture which Hermione was now sitting under. Fred and George were talking with each other in low voices. Ginny was still sitting with Bill across the table. Charlie and Tonks was inside the house somewhere.

Hermione turned her head and looked at Remus who had taken a seat next to her.

"When did this happen?" Remus asked and looked at her stomach.

"During our first week. But we didn't realise it until a week after you left," Hermione answered. Fred and George were looking at them now.

"When will you have the baby?" Fred (or maybe George, Hermione had never learnt to tell them apart) asked.

"In March," Hermione said with a smile. Not because of the subject but because of the glimmer of pranks in his eye. He was planning something.

"Oh. Are you two happy?" the other twin (probably George) asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know what he really thinks about anything. Especially not about the child."

Tonks came out again, accompanied by Albus Dumbledore. He smiled at Hermione and she smiled back.

"How lovely to see you, Miss… uhm… Mrs Riddle," he said

"Lovely to see you too, Headmaster," Hermione answered politely.

"Would you mind having a word with me… alone?" he asked and made a gesture toward the house.

Hermione shrugged, got up and followed the Headmaster into the house. Mrs and Mr Weasley were standing in the kitchen, speaking quickly to each other. They smiled at them when they entered, however, Hermione couldn't help but think that their smiles were a bit false.

Dumbledore led Hermione into the Weasley's small living room. Hermione sat down on the reddish-brown couch and Dumbledore sat down on the armchair on the opposite side. He took out his wand and cast numerous of spells over the room. Hermione didn't hear what he said; she just felt the tingle of magic and knew it affected her as well.

"How are you?" Dumbledore asked. "And don't lie; I'll know if you do."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I don't know how I am. I try to take it one day at the time. He is mostly acting very civilized. However, he is very possessive and… well, we do hate each other, however, we don't really speak much."

"And yet you are pregnant," Dumbledore remarked.

"Yes. I don't know why… he says he is happy about it. I'm not."

"You aren't?"

"Don't misunderstand me. I'll protect and love this child as much as I can. I just feel sorry for it and… I'm not that kind of girl who wants a child." Hermione stroked her stomach as she spoke. Dumbledore must have put some truth-spell over her. She tried not to think about things like this, it only made her depressed.

"I see. And he claims to be happy?"

"I don't think he is. But he is very manipulative. Perhaps he just… I don't know… Wants to look nice in the press."

Dumbledore looked very thoughtful. "I received your message from Severus. We are working on it."

Hermione smiled in relief. "I have to help my husband with it. However, I would be glad if he didn't manage to get… it."

"Understandable. He could use it for many horrid quests."

Hermione nodded.

Dumbledore suddenly sighed and looked at her with sorrow in his eyes. "What will become of you, Hermione?"

Hermione just blinked. That was something she didn't want to think about. She excused herself and went to the bathroom. Not only to get some time alone; she really needed to pee! What would become of her? Voldemort had once said that she would make a good teacher, however, that didn't mean he would let her be. Would he? She didn't want to be locked inside their rooms forever. It was fine now when she was pregnant and didn't have much else to do. Nevertheless, once the baby was born she wanted some freedom. She would go mad if she had to stay in their rooms forever! Somehow she must convince him to let her get out on her own. Not just once a year.

She flushed the toilet and went back to the others. They had begun to eat and she quickly joined them. They told her what they had been doing since she got married. Not anything about the Order, but about their personal life. Fred and George's joke shop was a huge success so they had only been busy with that. Charlie had started to work with dragons all over Europe and he also had a girlfriend in France, however it was nothing serious. Bill, who married Fleur a year earlier, told everyone that Fleur was two months pregnant. She was staying at her parents' house over Christmas. He had planned to join her there the next day, but now when Ginny was back, he wasn't so sure.

Ginny didn't say much. She just listened and smiled. She fell asleep during the dessert and Bill carried her up to her room. Tonks and Dumbledore had left earlier, saying they had to deal with some Order-businesses. Remus was still there, however, he didn't say much either.

After dessert, Molly asked them all to go to the living room for coffee. Hermione sat down in the couch with Remus and snuggled up against his chest. Fred and George excused themselves for a moment and Charlie and Mr Weasley were still in the kitchen with Molly.

"Remus," Hermione asked after a while. "Where is Harry? Doesn't he usually celebrate Christmas here?"

Remus tensed. "Well, we aren't sure were Harry is. No one has seen him since October. We are a bit worried. However, he asked us not to find him."

Hermione felt a stab of worry in her stomach. "Did he say what he was going to do?"

"He wants to find a way to defeat Voldemort," Remus said with a sigh. "I think he wants to save you."

Hermione groaned. "Damn."

"Do you know something?"

Hermione sighed. "I'm not sure. I will ask Voldemort about it. However, I don't think he will tell me the truth."

They fell silent. A couple of minutes later, Mrs and Mr Weasley came in with a tray full of coffee, tea and different biscuits. Hermione took some tea and a biscuit as she listened to the others talking. Charlie had gone up to see where Bill was.

Ten minutes later, Fred and George entered again. "Hey, Hermione! We want to discuss something with you!"

Hermione smiled at them. They looked like small schoolboys who were about to do something naughty. She wanted to do something like that for a change. With some help from Remus, she stood and followed them out to the kitchen. Fred and George led Hermione up to their bedroom. It was small, like all other bedrooms in the Burrow, and it was filled with boxes and other stuff. Hermione didn't know how they found their way around in the room. She could hardly see the beds under all different joke-products.

"So, we were thinking..." Fred started to say.

"What have you planned to give your husband for Christmas?" George finished.

Hermione stared at them, then she began to laugh. "Why? What have you planned?"

The twins smiled. "Well, we have some very interesting products. Does he smoke?" George held up a small box with cigars.

Hermione didn't know what would happen if someone tried to light one, however, she could bet it was something nasty. "No, he doesn't. And I don't know if you really want to have an angry Dark Lord at your door."

"Ah, perhaps we don't." Fred seemed thoughtful for a moment. George poked him and pointed at a black box which was laying on one of the beds. Fred smiled and opened it. In it, Hermione could see a couple of jars with a blue fluid in them.

"This little beauty is a Happy Potion," George said. "They will make the person who drinks it happier and nicer. We thought it could be something for your husband to try."

She laughed. "Happier and nicer? How much nicer? It would take a lot of potion to make my husband nice."

Fred blinked. "Then give him a double dose! It's designed so the person won't notice a thing. It has no taste."

Hermione looked down at it for a moment, her mind spinning. It could be nice to try to make Voldemort nice. "How much do you give the person in question?"

"Just one teaspoon in a glass with some other fluid. Just not coffee or alcohol because they interfere badly with each other," George said. "So, what do you think?"

Hermione nodded and looked down at the box again. If she gave Voldemort some Happy Potion, perhaps she could convince him to move somewhere else. Somewhere, where she could go out when she wanted to. Or perhaps she could make him give her back her wand. "I think that this is a very thoughtful gift."

The twins smiled. "We thought so. Have fun with them!"

They helped her shrink the box so it would fit in her pocket. It would grow again five hours later, so Hermione just had to find a place to hide it before then. She and the twins went back down to the others. Bill and Charlie had come down now as well. They were talking about some Quidditch game they had been to recently and Fred and George quickly joined the discussion. Hermione sank down next to Remus again.

"What did they want?" he wondered in a low voice.

"Just showing me some new jokes they have been working on. They thought I could use a laugh," she said with a smile. For some reason, she didn't really want to tell Remus what the twins had given her. He might think it was too dangerous for her to get back to Voldemort with a potion.

They all continued to discus various subjects and Hermione didn't notice how the time flew away. Before she knew it, it was a quarter to midnight and she had to get ready to leave. She hugged them all and gave Remus a peck on the cheek. At the stroke of midnight, she felt herself being transported and when she could see clearly again, she was standing inside her own room. She sighed.

"Good to see you too," Voldemort said dryly and got up from the armchair. "How was your trip?"

"They were very happy to get Ginny back," she answered truthfully. "Then they told me what they had been doing for the last six months. Excuse me; I have to use the bathroom."

He just sighed and sat down in the armchair again. Hermione went to the bathroom and changed out of her dress and into her house-robe. She was tired and wanted to sleep. She hid the box with potions in the small closet under the sink. She doubted Voldemort had ever opened it. There were only some towels there.

When she had done the things she needed, she got back to the room. Voldemort made a gesture for her to sit down in the armchair next to him. He poured up some tea for her.

"You seem happy," he noticed.

"I feel happy," she said with a smile and took a sip from her cup. "It was nice to see my friends again."

"Was Potter there?" he asked innocently. Too innocently. Hermione got suspicious.

"No, they had no idea where he is. Do you know something?"

Voldemort smiled. "Perhaps. Do you remember what you promised when I gave you that Weasley girl?"

Hermione got a cold feeling in her abdomen. "Yes?"

"Do you remember the part about helping me question new prisoners?"

The cold feeling grew. "Yes."

He got up and took her hand. She reluctantly stood. However, he only led her to the bed. Now she noticed that she could hardly keep her eyes open.

"Well, then you should sleep now. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow." He disposed her robe, helped her into the bed and then bent forward to kiss her forehead. "Harry Potter is indeed a prisoner I want your help to question him."

Surprisingly, Hermione fell asleep as soon as her head touched her pillow.

xxx

Voldemort looked at his sleeping wife. Good thing he had spiced her tea with some sleeping-potion, otherwise she would have been screaming and complaining about what he had done all night. He didn't want that, he wanted to sleep. Tomorrow would be a busy day.

He got ready for bed and sleep claimed him the moment after he put out the lights. He slept peacefully, as always. However, he was always ready for an attack. So when his lovely wife decided to try to strangle him, he awoke the moment her hands came around his neck. She was on top off him and when he tried to push her off, he realised how heavy she had become. Damn that baby.

The girl looked very angry. Good thing she couldn't do him any harm. As soon as she pressed too hard, the Contract hit her and she fell down on his chest.

"Well, good morning to you too," he said wryly.

"You drugged me!" she complained.

"Yes that I did. You see, I wanted to sleep and I knew you wouldn't let me once I told you about your friend." He used his body to roll her off from him and ended up on top of her instead. His morning erection was poking her in the stomach. It was very uncomfortable to lie on top of her when she was so big. Once the baby was born, he would begin to take a contraceptive potion.

"How long has he been here?" she asked furiously.

"A little more than a week. I haven't been down to visit him yet. I'm letting him sweat and imagining what horrible things I will do when I _do_ go down there."

"You are evil!" she spat and tried to push him off.

He shrugged. "I just think it's clever. Not that I don't mind a bloody torture session."

"Of all the horrible things you could have given me for a Christmas present!" He could see tears in her eyes.

"Oh, this is not your Christmas present," he said with a smile. "I will give that to you later. And if you help me with Potter, I will let you leave the room whenever you want."

She stared at him. He knew what she was feeling. She wanted to be able to walk around on her own, but she didn't want to help him torture Potter.

"I could put you under the Imperious Curse," he offered.

"No," she said quickly.

"Very well then." He looked down at her pretty little face. She felt quite nice under his body. "You know, perhaps I could be nicer to your friend."

She looked suspicious. "How?"

"Well, if you would join me in the shower…"

For a moment she actually looked relieved, then she closed her eyes and sighed.

"It's up to you. If you want, join me in five minutes." He got up from the bed and went naked to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and waited until it got warm enough. He hated to stand under cold water. It took four minutes for the girl to get into the bathroom. She didn't look at him; she just went to the shower stall and turned her back to him.

Voldemort took in her appearance. Her hair lay flat over her head. It had grown down over her shoulder blades now. Her arse was a little bigger than it had been six months before. Not that he minded. It was nice to have something to grab. However, she looked tensed. He put his hands on her shoulders and slowly caressed her back. Her skin was soft and young. He was glad she was so young. If they had married him off to someone old… he shuddered at the thought.

The girl relaxed a little and he put all her hair over one shoulder so he could kiss her throat. She let out a sigh. Her eyes were closed and he could see how she shut down her brain and just tried to feel. He didn't care. He was quite surprised she had joined him at all. She really wanted him to be nicer at her friend. Or was it something else?

His hand crept down to her pussy and stroked it. He wasn't in the mood for foreplay at the moment. He would get a lot of foreplay when they were questioning Potter. Perhaps they would have sex two times today.

Surprisingly, he found her already wet.

"You always manages to surprise me, girl," he mumbled as he spread her legs and pushed his already hard organ into her from behind.

"Just shut up and fuck me," she murmured.

He chuckled and obeyed her. His left hand was massaging her clit and his right hand was on her right breast. As he sped up, her hands came back and managed to get into his hair. She tugged his head down and his lips found hers. Her kisses always surprised him. She kissed him with such passion.

It only took them a few minutes to climax. He let her come with a scream before he spilled his seed inside of her. Then they just stood their under the sprinkle, his arms still around her. She let her hands fall down and placed them against the wall. Her head was leaning against the wall as well and she was breathing deeply.

He let go of her and quickly showered. "Join me for breakfast in fifteen minutes," he said before he exited the bathroom. He was feeling much happier now. This questioning session was going to be so much fun!


	14. Chapter 14

New chapter! Yay! Thank you so much Lady-Gizzy for looking this through!

**Warning!**This chapter contains torture. Don't like? Don't read!

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Chapter 14

Hermione felt ashamed.

Voldemort was about to torture her best friend and she had let him fuck her! She had even been happy to let him do it! She showered, dressed and left the bathroom. Voldemort ordered breakfast and they ate in silence. He smiled during the whole meal and Hermione tried not to look at him.

When they had finished, Voldemort made the plates vanish and took her arm. He apparated them away somewhere. When Hermione could see again, she noticed that they were standing on a roof. The roof was filled with cages. Hermione looked on with horror at the corpses in some of them. In one cage, the birds were still picking on a half rotten body. Hermione pressed a hand to her mouth.

"Perhaps I should have told you to close your eyes?" Voldemort asked as he watched her thoughtfully.

Hermione closed her eyes. A moment later, she heard him mumble a couple of spells, among them a disappearing-spell. When she opened her eyes again, all the corpses were gone and a ceiling had appeared over their heads. Voldemort lead Hermione down the line of empty cages until they came to the only one occupied. A thin, black haired boy was sitting in the middle of the cage with his arms over his head. Hermione gasped and was about to touch the cage when Voldemort captured her hand.

"It's cursed. It will hurt you if you touch it," he said calmly.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Well, break the curse and let me in!"

The boy lifted his head. Hermione recognised her best friend under the dirty face and scabby clothes. He squinted at them. Someone had taken his glasses. Hermione glared at her husband who shrugged and opened the cage door.

"Hermione?" Harry asked doubtfully when she entered the cage.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione kneeled next to him and took his hands. "Can't you give him back his glasses?"

Harry frowned, Hermione just smiled at him and hugged his hands. Voldemort came up next to them and with a flick of his wand, Harry flew out from her hands and was nailed against the cage wall, his hands tied over his head. He gasped in surprise and pain. Voldemort went to him and placed his glasses on the tip of his nose. Harry watched them in horror. He looked from Voldemort to Hermione, then back to Voldemort and then to Hermione again. He didn't seem to comprehend with what he was seeing.

Voldemort smiled, conjured a big, comfortable armchair and sat down in it. Hermione stood and made a step toward Harry. However, Voldemort took a grip of her wrist and pulled her roughly into his lap. He put one hand on her stomach and one on her shoulder to make her lean back against his chest. She looked up at him with a frown. He just smiled, it was too late when she realised what he was doing.

He was making Harry freak out.

"What the fuck has he done to you?" The boy-who-lived screamed.

Hermione sat up in her husband's lap with an alarmed look. She could hear Voldemort chuckle.

"No, Harry, he's just…"

"Has he made you pregnant?" Harry screamed with a crazy look at her stomach. "Oh, Merlin, you two are shagging, aren't you?"

Hermione tried to get up from Voldemort's lap; however, he held her down with his hands on her hips.

"It's not like that Harry," she tried to explain. "I had to have sex with him because of the Marriage Contract!"

Voldemort placed his chin on her shoulder. "You didn't have to have sex with me this morning," he said smugly.

She pinched his leg. Harry looked at them with wide eyes. "What the fuck is going on?"

Voldemort stood and dumped Hermione in the chair. He walked up to Harry menacingly.

"What my wife doesn't want to admit, is that she is _very _sexually attracted to me." He turned toward her with a smile. "And I have to say… she doesn't look so bad herself. You would fuck her, Potter, wouldn't you?"

Potter just stared at him with furious eyes. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. She needed to end this. Voldemort was just being evil. She didn't want Harry to believe she had abandoned him. However, how did you deny the truth?

"Harry," she said. "It's not what you think. I hate being here!"

"Ah, but you like the sex," Voldemort remarked.

Hermione gave him a murderous glare. "Not always. Besides, just because you like one ingredient, doesn't mean you like the dish."

Voldemort arched an eyebrow. "Is it the pregnancy that makes you to constantly think about food?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It is just a metaphor."

He shrugged and turned back to Harry. "I feel that we are really getting to know each other."

Hermione rose from the armchair and went up to them. "That is not true! Harry knows me much better!"

"I thought I did," Harry mumbled.

Hermione turned toward her friend with a pleading look. "Please Harry, its just sex. For heaven's sake, I do have needs!"

"Oh, quite the little lioness, isn't she?" Voldemort said mockingly.

Hermione ignored him. "Harry, please don't listen to him. You know the important things. Like, what were my parent's names?"

"Hugo and Rose, Muggle dentists, born 1939 and 1946," Voldemort said with a triumph look.

Hermione glared at him. "You only know that because you have a file on them on somewhere."

"Still, I think it's important enough to remember."

"It doesn't count, you have photographic memory," she remarked dryly.

"Not really, almost, though."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry knows what they usually gave me for Christmas, and where they took me for vacation, right?" She turned towards Harry.

He nodded, although still seemed doubtful. "Yeah, France and then skiing in the Alps?"

"That's right." Hermione nodded. "And you know my favourite colour."

"Green, but you tell everyone its brown."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, and you like all colours… except purple."

He nodded. She could see some hope in his eyes. She glared at Voldemort who just looked amused.

"What's my favourite fairytale?" she asked.

"Sleeping Beauty," Harry said with a smile.

"Exactly! You and I like each other and know things about each other. My husband and I are barely able to stand each other," she said eagerly.

Voldemort let out a snort. Hermione and Harry looked at him.

"I'm just thinking about the irony," he said.

"What irony?" Hermione asked with a suspicious glare.

He placed his hand on hers. "That you are acting like any of those things matters. All that matters is power." He took out a knife and placed it in her hand. "And you know who has the power here… Hermione."

She stared at her husband. He had only said her name one time before and that was when they had first met. Never after that. What was he up to?

"I wish for you to pinch your friend," Voldemort suddenly said.

Hermione's eyes widened as she unwillingly turned toward Harry and pinched his arm. Harry's eyes widened as well and he let out a small groan in surprise.

"What did you do that for?" he asked her.

Voldemort took her hand and kissed it. "Because she is mine, Potter. I can make her do whatever I want."

Hermione gave him a murderous glare. "Not willingly."

He smirked. "Oh, I'm not that picky. Go and sit down, I wish you not to interfere with what I'm about to do."

Hermione didn't move. He arched an eyebrow in a _'do-I-have-to-wish-it?'_way. She sighed and went to sit in the armchair again. Voldemort turned his attention toward Harry. He was tapping his wand against his palm now.

"So many body parts, so little time," he said thoughtfully. "You see, wife, there are two ways to do a torture-session. You can begin with the most horrible things you know and after that, everything will feel quite painful. Or you could begin with small things and slowly build up the terror and the pain. Guess which way I like the most?" He looked at her over his shoulder with a smile.

Hermione got the feeling she didn't want to see this. Voldemort obviously wanted to play some sick game, and he had forced her not to interfere. She fisted her hands.

"Answer me," he ordered as he pulled out a box from the inside of his robes and placed it on a small table he had conjured.

"The second one," she mumbled.

He smiled again. "You are such a clever little witch. Isn't she Potter? I just have to ask; how was she in class?"

"Brilliant," Potter spat. "Much better than you!"

"_Ah_, isn't that a little unfair? You have never seen me in class." Voldemort opened the box. Hermione couldn't see everything in it; however, most of it seemed to be very sharp. Voldemort took up a hypodermic needle. "We actually had a Healer-class when I went to Hogwarts."

He took Harry's bound arm and massaged it so the veins started to show. "This may hurt a little."

Hermione was quite shocked when she saw Voldemort drawing blood out from Harry. Not much, however, Harry looked a bit green.

"I liked the Healer-class," Voldemort said as he removed the needle and looked at the tube filled with blood. "Do you know how much knowledge blood contains? In the Muggle world, they can find all sorts of diseases and allergies in blood. In the magical world, you can find out a lot about a person's magic."

He placed a small white plate on the table and spilled a little of Harry's blood on it. After that, he took his wand and mumbled a couple of spells over the blood.

"Interesting," Voldemort mumbled. "I think I know exactly how I'll start with you."

He straightened and placed his wand at his temples. When he pulled it away, a long silvery sting followed. With a fast movement, Voldemort threw the string at Harry. The boy closed his eyes and Hermione watched in horror as his face crumbled in terror.

"What did you do?" she hissed.

Voldemort chuckled. "The boy is in love. You'll never guess with whom."

Hermione was about to ask what he meant, however, Harry opened his eyes and stared at Voldemort with hatred in his eyes.

"YOU BASTARD! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" he screamed and tried to wriggle free from the bonds.

"Really, Mr Potter? How?" Voldemort took Harry's right hand and bent his fingers backwards until they broke. Hermione started to feel a bit sick when Harry screamed. Voldemort took the other hand and did the same thing. "You won't be able to wave your wand now. Not that you have one."

"You're sick," Hermione whispered. She wanted to go over there and smack his head, but she couldn't interfere.

Voldemort looked at her. "No dear, I'm practical. If your friend does what I say, I will heal him."

Hermione closed her eyes, she almost wanted to vomit. Harry was sobbing. She tried to ignore her husband's voice and instead think of a way to help Harry. She knew Harry would never do what Voldemort wanted. However, there had to be some compromise. She opened her eyes when Harry began to scream again. Voldemort was sitting on his knees at the boy's feet and… was burning them with his wand.

"So," Voldemort said softly after a while. "Now you won't go anywhere."

Voldemort turned towards the table and took up another object from the box. It seemed to be another needle, bigger and without a tube. Voldemort waved his wand over it and without further warning, pushed it through Harry's already injured foot. The boy screamed hoarsely.

"Poison has now started to run through you blood. It will slowly paralyze you. In about an hour, the poison will reach your heart and you'll die," Voldemort said matter-of-factly. "Unless you want that to happen, you'll answer my wife's questions."

Hermione looked at him. "What?"

Voldemort conjured up a scroll of parchment and gave it to her. She looked at the neat handwriting of her husband.

"What?" she asked again.

"If you manage to get three true answerers out of ten, I'll heal him," Voldemort said and helped her up from the armchair.

She pulled back her hand as if he burnt her and looked down at the questions written on the parchment. She sighed. Harry wouldn't want to answer any of them; she didn't even think he knew half of the answers. It was questions like _Name all mortal allergies the members of the Order has_, and _What are Dumbledore's secret ambition?_

"Can't you at least let him lay down?" she asked her husband coldly.

He shrugged and waved his wand at Harry who fell down on the floor with a scream. Hermione glared at him.

"What? You wanted me to let him down."

Hermione thought about giving him the finger, but decided not to. If he understood what it meant, he may take it literally. She went over to Harry again and clumsily sat down next to him. She placed his head in her lap and tried to comfort him. Voldemort sat down in the armchair.

Harry was lying on his side in a foetal position, nursing his hands.

"I'm so, so sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered. "I will ask you a couple of questions and if you can answer, he will heal you again."

"W-what kind of q-questions?" Harry asked and tried to stop sobbing. Hermione had to admire his strength. Harry would never stop fighting.

Hermione looked down at the scroll. "Which members of the Order do you think could turn against the Order if encouraged?"

"No one!" Harry answered quickly. "Not anyone I know, anyway."

Hermione looked up at Voldemort. He shook his head.

"He answered truthfully," Hermione objected.

"Not truthfully enough. Take another question." He crossed his arms.

Hermione sighed and looked down at the scroll again. "What major plans is the Order working with?"

"I won't answer that!" Harry hissed.

"_Crucio_," Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry.

"What are you doing?" Hermione screamed. "Stop it!"

Voldemort did. "Make him answer the question."

Harry was shuddering in her lap. Hermione brushed away some tears that escaped her eyes. She didn't want to do this! She had to come up with something!

"Harry. Just tell me something you know. Please." Hopefully, she could warn Snape about what Harry revealed before it was too late.

"Have you told him everything you know?" Harry muttered.

Hermione glanced at Voldemort who was leaning forward, looking very interested.

"We don't talk about things like that," she mumbled. "Please answer the question."

Voldemort held up his wand again, but Hermione held up her hand.

"Harry, you know you can tell me everything. I can help you."

Harry just shook his head. Hermione wanted to cry. Why did Harry have to be so stubborn? She didn't want him to die!

"Ask another question," Voldemort ordered.

Hermione looked down again. She gave Harry all questions she knew he could answer some thing. Like; who was in the Order? What hiding places did the Order have? Who, besides Dumbledore, were the leaders and why?

However, Hermione couldn't get any answers out of Harry. Voldemort cast several other curses at Harry, however, nothing helped. He was too bullet-headed. When fifty of the sixty minutes had gone, Harry couldn't move his legs or stomach.

Hermione looked up at Voldemort. "Please, he won't answer. Why can't you just let it be?"

Voldemort got up from the armchair. "I haven't come this far just to let things be. However, Mr Potter obviously doesn't care about his own life." He removed the needle and took up a bottle from the box and made Harry swallow it.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

Voldemort seemed thoughtful. "I wonder if he will be more informative if we hurt someone else."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You can't hurt me!"

He rolled his eyes. "I know I can't. However, I can stand a small headache. Antonin!"

Hermione gasped as a Death Eater Apparated into the cage. She recognised him from the feast at the Malfoy's. He was wearing plain dark Death Eater robes without a mask. Some may call him handsome; however, Hermione couldn't help but to notice the cold, cruel eyes. She could see the same look in her husband's eyes. However, she wasn't really noticing Voldemort because she didn't find him half as scary as she had done before they got married. Or perhaps it was the fact that she knew Voldemort couldn't harm her. Or at least she had thought he couldn't.

"I wish for you to stand up and lean against the wall," Voldemort said and pointed at the side of the cage.

Hermione tried to fight his wish, but couldn't. She got up from Harry who was looking at her in terror.

Voldemort when over to Harry and sank down next to him. "You don't give me a choice, Potter. I don't want to hurt my wife, but I need for you to talk."

Hermione couldn't see that happened. She heard Dolohov coming up behind her. What would they do? She let out a cry when she felt a burning sensation in her back. Dolohov had whipped her.

"What do you say, Potter?" Voldemort sounded a bit strained, like he was in pain as well. Perhaps he was. She didn't know how the Contract worked when he wasn't the one who hit her.

She didn't have time to think much about it, because another lash came down on her back and she cried out again. She was sure she was bleeding. Another strike and she fell down on the ground. Her head was spinning and she couldn't hear what was going on around her.

A couple of minutes passed, then two more lashes landed on her back. Hermione was resting on her knees trying not to put too much pressure on her stomach. The child was kicking like mad in there. She wondered if it could feel how scared she was. Probably. She and Voldemort would raise a very neurotic child. Poor thing.

She didn't know what Harry and Voldemort said. Although, when she didn't receive any more lashes, she guessed Harry had begun to talk. Someone tore up her robes and she could feel the cold wind on her back. However, the person was very careful, so Hermione didn't try to move. A hand came up on her back and she flinched. It hurt! Then she could feel something cold and smooth being placed on her back and she relaxed. The burning and stinging disappeared at once and she sat up on her knees, panting from the strain.

A hand gently touched her shoulder. "Do you feel better?" It was Dolohov.

She took a grip of his wrist and pulled him down in a fast movement. Dolohov seemed very surprised when he found himself on the floor next to her. She quickly sat on his chest and started to beat him with her fists.

"Never. Hit. A. Pregnant. WOMAN!" she accentuated every syllable with a punch to the death eaters face. It was easy to pretend he was Voldemort. She wished he was. How dare he use her to get to Harry? She never asked to be in this position.

Fortunately for Dolohov, Voldemort was merciful enough to pull his wife away from him. Although, he was laughing when he did it.

"What a little lioness," he mumbled into her ear.

Dolohov quickly stood. His nose was broken and he was bleeding from his left eyebrow. He gave Hermione a murderous glare as he corrected his robes.

"You may go, Antonin," Voldemort said calmly, although he was clearly amused.

"My Lord," Antonin muttered and bowed before he Apparated.

Hermione wriggled out of Voldemort's grip and crossed her arms over her breasts. Her robe was almost torn off her body and she didn't have anything underneath. It was cold. She turned around and saw Harry still sitting on the floor. Voldemort seemed to have healed him. He looked so sad.

She was about to go to him when Voldemort took her arm again. He pulled off his cloak and gave it to her. She took it without a word and placed it around her body.

"You have five minutes," Voldemort said before he left the cage. He seemed to be a bit worn. Not that she cared. That bastard deserved it.

Hermione frowned, but went over to Harry. "How are you?"

"I couldn't… I couldn't stand seeing them hurt you." Harry said in a toneless voice. "I… I told them everything I k-knew."

"Its okay, Harry." Hermione winced as she sat down. She was tired and it was quite difficult to sit down with a big stomach. "What did you tell them?"

"About the hiding places. And who I thought were the greatest assets in the Order." Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "And who we were planning to recruit. But it won't stop with that, will it? He will come back tomorrow and make me watch another prisoner being tortured, and I'll have to answer three other questions. And when I can't tell him anything more, he'll kill me."

"Did he tell you that?" Hermione asked a bit horrified.

Harry smiled unhappily. "He is Voldemort. He doesn't have to tell me. I know he will. Now he has found my weakness."

Hermione hugged him. "I'll speak to him. Offer him something else."

She could feel Harry sigh against her chest. "If you see Ginny… tell her I forgive her."

Hermione looked down at Harry. He seemed to have fallen asleep. She removed Voldemort's cloak and swept it around the boy. She stood up in the same moment as Voldemort came back again. He looked down at Harry and made a grimace. Hermione just took his hand.

"Let's go," she mumbled, starting to plan how she would persuade him to free Harry. Perhaps it was time to bring out the bottle of happiness?


	15. Chapter 15

Wow... this chapter is longer than I thought. Oh, well. Enjoy! Oh, and those of you who are afraid of snakes should look away! (no, there is no picture).

* * *

Chapter 15

Voldemort could still feel the headache, even if the girl was healed. When she had been hit, he had almost vomited from the pain in his head. He would never torture her again… as long as he didn't have to.

Nevertheless, it worked. Potter told him what he wanted to know, and now Voldemort also knew how to make Potter talk. The only thing he needed to do now was to find someone Potter cared about.

They Apparated back to their room and the girl fled into the bathroom. Even though he was sure she wanted to be alone, he followed. She took off her ripped robe when he entered and was about to fill the bathtub with water. He could see her freeze when she heard him.

"Let me know when you are done so I can apply a healing cream. I don't want you to get scars," he said softly. He was very pleased with her.

The girl sighed and looked down at the water running into the tube. "Harry said that he forgives Ginny. What did he mean by that?"

Voldemort couldn't resist smiling. "Oh, that. Your little Weasley friend was the one who told us where Potter would be around Christmas. He told her that he wanted to visit his parents' graves. It wasn't hard to capture him once he got there."

The girl's shoulders sank. "So that was why I couldn't take her home earlier?"

"Exactly. I'm a bit surprised she didn't tell you about that. Perhaps she was ashamed."

His wife turned off the water and her hand came up to her face so he couldn't see her eyes.

"Are you crying?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes," she said in a low voice.

He frowned, got up to her and made her turn around. "Why?"

She looked up at him. "Because I'm married to a monster! What will you do with Harry?"

"Why? Any suggestions?" He smiled and his hand came up to her cheek to brush her tears away.

She bit her lip. He looked at her more closely. Her skin seemed almost golden in this light. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying and she just appeared so small and sad. The only thing big was the stomach. He didn't really like it; nevertheless, in just three months she would hopefully be back to her normal slim size.

"You could let him go," she whispered.

"No, I can't. I have tried to kill him since he was a baby, I won't let him go now." His hand stroked her hair. "You'll just have to accept that you can't save all your friends."

She pushed him away. "Get out."

He crossed his arms. "I try to be nice…"

"Get out, get out, GET OUT!" she screamed and pushed him outside and locked the door.

Voldemort stared at the closed wooden door in front of him. What was wrong with her? Sure, he had ordered someone to whip her, and was planning to kill her friends, but she should be used to it by now. Perhaps it was the pregnancy. Yes, it must be. He had read that some women could get a very bad temper during their pregnancy. That must be it.

He sighed and went to the sofa instead. He was tired and the sofa seemed very comfortable. Soft.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next moment, he could feel something wet and cold drop down on his face. His hand flew out and he griped something and pulled it down against him. A body? A very wet body…

"What are you doing?"

He blinked the sleep out from his eyes and noticed his wife sitting on top of him. She looked at him with an angry glare. Voldemort smirked and his arms came around her.

"I could ask you the same thing," he answered.

She tried to break free. He didn't let her; he just sat up with her in his lap. He inhaled the smell of her hair. He was having a very good day today and couldn't help but to enjoy the things he liked. Or perhaps he was just still a bit sleepy. He didn't feel as paranoid as usual.

"You said you wanted to apply some ointment," she reminded him.

"Right." He sighed and helped her up. "Go and lay down on your… I want to say stomach; however, I'm not sure you'll be able too."

"And who's fault is that?" she mumbled as she went to the bed and lay down on her side.

He took a tube from the table and went over to the bed. He slowly applied the cream over her back. It was almost healed now. The scars would be gone by tomorrow. He shuddered a little when he remembered her screams. It was something about screams that made him feel… in control. Control was good.

"You are done," he said softly.

She rolled over to her back and placed her hands on her stomach. He looked down at it and frowned. Something was moving under her skin. He could see it clearly.

"Is it supposed to do that?" he asked.

The girl looked down at her stomach and the moving. "Why not? I think he or she has hiccups."

"The child is only six months old!" he objected and touched her stomach. He could feel it move under his hand. It felt weird.

"So? You do know that it is a small human in there, right?"

He scowled. "Of course I do. I put it in there."

"That you did," she scoffed. "Why didn't you want an abortion?"

"Because the child can be more useful for me alive than dead. Why do you ask? Do you want to get an abortion?

She sighed. "It's a very hard question. I do believe that sometimes it's crueller to let the child live than to get an abortion. It's not like the child is aware of what is happening anyway."

"How do you know that?" Voldemort asked and slowly stroked her stomach. He was, against his will, fascinated by the fact that a little human was inside his wife.

"Well, you have to know the difference between life and death to know that you are alive to begin with. I didn't really get that until I was… four perhaps. When did you realise that you were going to die one day?" she asked.

He froze and removed his hand from her stomach. "I'm not going to die. Not after I have the Cup."

She sighed. "Right. You know, there are worse things in life than death."

"How do you know that? You have never died." He stood and heard her sigh.

"Fine. We will never understand each other." She sat up. "Could you give me my robe?"

He didn't answer, just went to the wardrobe and took out an ordinary black robe and threw it at her. He didn't like how she brought up unpleasant things when they talked. It made him uncomfortable. Good thing she dropped the subject so fast. He wanted to stay in a good mood.

She put on the robe and waddled over to the sofa. He shook his head behind her and couldn't help but smile. She looked silly when she walked. She was small so her stomach was already showing a lot. He wondered what it would be like when she was in her eighth month.

"Lolly," she called out. A small House-Elf appeared. Voldemort went to the bookshelves as his wife ordered lunch. Even if he knew all his House-Elves, he didn't like them. Sure, they were excellent servants, but they were so… chirpy. It gave him a headache.

While his wife waited for the food, Voldemort quickly went to his study which was next to their room. The girl didn't have access to it, neither did his servants. He held most of his important things there. Like papers on all his Death Eaters, reports from his spies, spells and curses he was working on. He had put several security spells on the room, so in case there was an accident, or he had to run away, all the things could be stored and transported in a matter of seconds.

However, now he had something else in the room. His wife's Christmas present. It was a very personal gift and he had many reasons to why he wanted to give it to her. The first reason was simple, although he was a Dark Lord; he knew that he couldn't keep people locked up forever. They had a tendency to go mad by it. Either you killed them or you gave them some freedom. Since he had to live with his wife, he didn't want her to go mad. With this gift, he could allow her to leave… once in a while.

The second reason was also simple. He wanted to know what his wife was up too. Not the trivial stuff, like what kind of dinner she ate, or how much toilet paper she used. He wanted to be sure she didn't do anything bad. This gift would be able to tell him if his wife had done something he didn't like.

The third reason was practical. He had put a spell on the gift so he would be able to talk to his wife through it if he wanted to.

The last reason was not as sentimental as it sounded. This gift would make sure no one harmed her. Or, if someone did harm her, he or she would never be able to do it again. This gift was quite deadly. He wanted to make sure his wife was safe even if he wasn't around. If someone should kill her, it would be him.

He took the gift in his hands and went back to their room. The girl was already eating. He wondered if she, like him, used to check her food for poison before she ate. Probably not, she was so naïve. Good thing the gift would be able warn her about poisons as well.

"I have a gift for you," he said softly and held up his hands.

The girl looked up and… screamed. She flew up from the couch quicker than he had thought was possible and jumped up on table. He frowned and looked down at the small serpent he was holding in his hands. It was an ordinary copperhead, quite toxic. It was reddish and only one foot long. It would grow another foot or two, and it would get a bit thicker (now it was like a small woman's wrist). Even if he would never say it to anyone, he thought it was quite cute for a serpent. Why did she scream like that?

"What… Is… That?" she stuttered, her eyes wide.

Voldemort patted the serpent's head. "This is your Christmas gift. I have trained her myself. She is very well behaved."

He took a step toward her. She held up her hands and was about to fall off the table as she stumbled backwards. "A snake. It's a snake! You want to give me a snake? Of course you do… an ordinary husband would give me flowers and jewellery, but no, the great Lord Voldemort has to give me a fucking snake!"

He arched his eyebrows. "Are you afraid of serpents?"

"Are you kidding?" she jumped off the table and started to walk backwards. "I know it's silly and… girlish… but I can't help it!"

Voldemort took a couple of steps toward her; he had not expected this. She yelped, ran to the bed and hid under the covers. He rolled his eyes, now she was just silly.

He placed the serpent on the table and told it to stay there. Sighing, he went over to the bed and sat down. She shrieked when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," he snarled. "I don't have it with me."

"Do you promise?" came her muffled voice from under the cover.

"Yes."

She peeked up. He held out his hands to show her that he didn't have anything. She put the covers down and took a couple of deep breaths.

"The snake won't harm you," he said, trying to be nice. He hadn't meant to scare her. Although, he would look back at this and laugh when he got some time alone. "She will protect you."

"Can't you just give me a dog or something?" she mumbled.

"Dogs aren't poisonous, girl," he said with a smile. "Just let me introduce you."

He placed an arm around her waist and another on her hand and led her toward the table. "Her name is Besch, she is an northern copperhead, only two years old. She should be asleep this time of the year, but I have cast a little spell on her, to keep her nice and warm."

He made her sit down on the sofa. The serpent was still on the table, looking at them with interest. Since he was a Parselmouth, it had been easy to train her. These kind of serpents only did a "warning attack" if someone was foolish enough to disturb them. Besch was trained to attack anyone who behaved aggressively against his wife. Except for him, of course. Besch was also, with magic, trained to understand human speech. If the girl did or say anything suspiciously, the serpent would know and then report to him. It was really a piece of cake. If he could get his wife to accept the gift.

"Just say hi," he said to his wife.

"Hi," the girl said slowly.

Voldemort took up the serpent and started to speak with it in Parsel. "_This is my precious, she is afraid. Do not tease her."_

The girl gasped. He realised she had never heard him speak in Parsel before. He was about to explain what he just said when she opened her mouth.

"Why do you call me your precious?"

He stared at her. "I did not…"

"Yes you did! Just now, to the snake! I heard you."

He stared at her in disbelief. "Why haven't you told me you speak Parsel?"

"I don't," she looked astonished. "I don't even understand it. Or I didn't. I have heard Harry talk it, but…"

He looked just as shocked. "I… precious is what the serpents call their wives. I was just talking in a way she would understand!"

She just shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe this. How can I understand what you are saying?"

Voldemort took up the copperhead. "_Say hello._"

The serpent looked at the girl. "_Hello._"

She let out a tiny shriek. Voldemort couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"Close your eyes," he told her and took her hand.

"Why?" she asked and closed her eye. He was a bit surprised that she did what he told her right away. Did she trust him? Perhaps it was only because she knew he couldn't harm her.

"Just relax." He slowly brought her hand toward the snake.

She winced when her fingertips came in contact with the serpent.

"It's nothing to be afraid off," he said in his nicest voice. He really needed her to accept the snake. Otherwise he would have to come up with a new way to watch her every move and he didn't have the time. "What does it feel like?"

"Like silk. Quite warm," she said slowly, her eyes still closed.

"Why are you so afraid of it?" he asked softly.

"Because… they look so scary. Especially when they are moving." Her hand was around the serpent now, she was trembling. He removed her hand.

"Open your eyes," he said.

She did. They were a bit glassy, and her face was pale and sweaty. At least she didn't try to flee.

"Just sit here and watch her for a moment," he mumbled and kissed her cheek, trying to calm her down. "She won't bite you."

He rose, but she took a grip of his arm. He sighed. "Don't try my patience, girl. I don't like clinging people. I will just be by the bookshelves."

She let out a small whimper and let go of him. He straightened his robe and got over to the bookshelf. He hated riddles, and he wanted to know why the girl suddenly understood Parsel. He had a theory, but he needed to verify it. The girl couldn't speak Parsel, but there was some ways to let people understand other languages. It could be done by spells and potions. However, he was quite sure she wasn't under any spell or potion. So there had to be something else. His guesses were on the baby.

Since it was his child, he or she would probably understood Parsel. Perhaps his wife subconsciously borrowed their child's ability. It was a long shot, although he had heard of other mothers who "borrowed" their children's ability during the pregnancy.

Perhaps his child was very powerful.

Voldemort pulled out a couple of books about childbirth. He had bought them when they found out that they were expecting a baby. Before that, he hadn't known a thing about children or childbirths. It had never been on his agenda. Even if he hated the fact that he would become a father, he wanted to know everything about it. He had always been like that, wanting to know everything.

After a while, he found something of value. It turned out that mothers somehow managed to understand the languages that would be important for the child. There was a long magical explanation about how this worked, and it had mostly been documented with human mothers who became pregnant by a non-human; a giant, a merman, a vampire or something like that. The mothers learned the languages so they could understand and protect their child. It had never been documented with a Parselmouth, because they were quite rare.

Voldemort closed the book with a sigh. It seemed his wife would understand Parsel from here on. Then he would have to be careful. He spoke quite freely with serpents because he knew no one else would understand. Like when he had called his wife "precious". It was true that serpents called their mates "precious", but he could just as well have called her his mate. It was just… the word had just rolled off his tongue. She wasn't his precious!

"Well?" he asked when he got back to his wife who was still sitting on the couch with her eyes on the serpent. "What do you say?"

"Will she get very big?"

"No, four feet at the most."

"It's quite big."

He sat down on the couch and chuckled. "Not for a serpent. I once met one who was thirty-three feet long."

She gripped his arm. "Not in this part of the world, right?"

He looked down at her. "You get clingy and stupid when you are scared."

She scowled and let go of him. "Well, we'll see what you'll be like when you have to face something you fear."

"I don't fear anything."

"Except death."

He didn't answer that.

xxx

A couple of days after Christmas, everything went back to normal. Voldemort disappeared during the day and Hermione spent most of the time in the library with her new pet. She got cold and sweaty every time she saw it, although she didn't try to run anymore. She could even touch it with her eyes open. She also found herself talking to the serpent. It still surprised her that she could understand what Besch was saying, even if she didn't say a lot. Besch was more content with lying in the sun and just listing to Hermione talking out loud when she found something in a book. Voldemort believed she was still searching for the Cups, but Hermione had a new mission. She was going to save Harry.

It was a very silly mission because Voldemort wasn't even considering sparing Harry's life. Only if Harry wanted to join the Death Eaters could he consider it. Another problem was that she wasn't certain Harry wanted to live. She knew he hated the fact that he was betraying the Order. Voldemort had told her how he managed to get three more answers out from Harry just the other day. Hermione had been very angry with her husband and it ended with her taking a long relaxing bath and him not returning until the night after.

However, she had another problem as well.

Hermione was sitting in the library with her eyes closed. Her hand was between her legs, massaging her clit. It only took her a minute to work herself to climax. She came with a low groan and then dried off her hand on the inside of her robe. She leaned back in the chair, the sudden horniness gone, but still feeling unfulfilled.

The serpent hissed in curiosity.

Hermione sighed. "My hormones are running around like mad inside my body," she tried to explain. "One minute, I just have to eat cucumbers, and the next I feel very… needy. But since my husband is a prick, I have to deal with it myself." She sighed again and Besch let out a serpent-laugh.

"It's not so funny," Hermione muttered. "I can barley reach myself anymore. My stomach is too big."

She moved the book closer to her again and tried to focus on a way to save Harry. However, it seemed to be quite useless. She didn't even have a wand! Besides, she was sleepy.

The book fell down in her lap as she closed her eyes. She was just about to doze off when the door to the library banged open. She jumped in her seat, her eyes wide. No one ever entered the library when she was there. Who could it be? She was sitting at the end of the library, so the shelves were effectively hiding her. However, she could hear upset voices.

"It's not negotiable, Reya." Was that Lucius Malfoy's voice? He was one of the few who had access to the library but what was he doing there?

"Please Lucius! I need it! You know I'll do anything…" It was a woman's voice. Hermione was sure she had heard it before, but she couldn't remember where. The woman sounded desperate and tearful.

"Anything isn't good enough, since there is so little you can do. However…" Lucius hesitated. "Fine, on your knees, girl."

Hermione got up from the chair. All she could hear was clothes being moved. She tiptoed to the small pathway between the shelves, but couldn't see anything. She was about to sneak to the next shelf when she heard moans coming from Lucius. Hermione wrinkled her nose. They were having sex. That was so unfair.

Turning her head away, she went back to the table. She had nothing to do with it. If Lucius wanted to bang someone in the library, she couldn't stop him. If he had forced himself on the woman, Hermione would have done something. However, this was clearly some business thing. A year ago, Hermione would probably have done something anyway, but not now. Not when she herself had used her body to try to get what she wanted. She understood the woman Lucius was with. If you were desperate, you could do almost anything.

Lucius moans got stronger. Hermione tried not to listen. It took him about five minutes to finish.

"I have a friend who may be able to get you what you need. I'll speak with him," Lucius finally said, a bit hoarsely. "Are you sure you have the money?"

"Of course," the woman sounded hoarse as well. Hermione suddenly understood what kind of sexual act they had engaged it.

"Good. And if my friend would like some services…?"

"You know what I do, Lucius." The woman sounded bitter. Hermione realised this wasn't the first time something like this happened.

"Excellent. I'll contact you sometime next week. There is a Floo over there; it will take you to the Apparation point. If you excuse me, I have some business to attend to." Hermione heard him walk away and a moment later a door close.

Hermione prepared to hide under the table. The Floo was just next to where she sat and she didn't want to be seen. However, nothing was heard for over a minute, then…

"SON OF A BITCH!" Something heavy fell down on the floor. Then Hermione could hear crying.

She frowned and got up from the chair. Besch hissed a warning to her, she ignored it. She went toward the noise. A red-haired woman was sitting on the floor next to a pile of book. Hermione's eyes widened when she recognised her.

"Miss Radcliff?" she gasped.

The other woman looked up, her eyes went wide and a small flush crept up on her cheeks. She stood up and straightened her robe. "Mrs Riddle? Uhm… I didn't know anyone was in here."

"I-I didn't want to interrupt," Hermione blushed as well, uncomfortable to see someone else blush. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just… Malfoy and I have… well… I just need his help with… ah, never mind." Miss Radcliff, or Reya as she was obviously called, started to walk toward the fire.

Hermione took a hold of her wrist. "Wait."

Reya looked down at Hermione's hand and Hermione let go of her. "I just… Perhaps I can help you."

The older woman smiled sadly. "You are sweet, Mrs Riddle. Too sweet."

Hermione frowned. "What do you mean?"

Reya sighed. "Look. 'Helping' each other is just not what we do here. It's all about power. I have very little power, but if I accept help from you, the little power I have will disappear. Everyone will know that I went to a Mud… sorry, Muggle-born for help. Even if she is married to the Dark Lord."

Hermione was actually hurt. What was wrong with doing a good deed? "Sorry."

Reya just shook her head and placed a strand of red hair behind her ear. "No, don't be sorry. Now you have power."

Hermione arched her eyebrows. "I do?"

"Yes. Information is power. What do you think Narcissa would do if she found out Lucius have a little too much fun in the library? Adultery is not very popular among pure-bloods. At least not when some else founds out." Reya winked.

Hermione tilted her head. "Aren't you helping me now?"

Reya snorted. "No, I can't do anything with that information, but I'd love to see Lucius suffer. Besides, exchanging favours is also something we do."

"Oh." Hermione's mind was spinning. Deep down, she knew this, however, it was nice to have it spelled out. It was easier to play the game if you knew the rules. "So, now that you have done me a favour, I can do you a favour. Perhaps I know the name of Malfoy's friend. What do you need him for?"

"Medicine," Reya answered. "A potion."

Hermione couldn't help but to smile. "Then Malfoy must have thought about Professor Snape."

"Snape? That bat-like man who was with us in Switzerland?"

Hermione nodded. She could see how the wheels in Reya's mind were spinning.

"Ah. I see. Thank you, Mrs Riddle." She made an attempt to leave again.

Hermione stopped her, again. "Could I perhaps stop by in your bookshop? I would like to talk more about this… society."

"Sure!" Reya seemed to be happy again. "Take care!"

"You too." Hermione watched as the other woman disappeared through the fire. She was very… strange. Hermione sighed and went back to her books. Perhaps she needed to look at this Harry-problem from another angle. If she could get power over Voldemort… hmm…


	16. Chapter 16

Here you are! Chapter 16! This chapter has been a bit censored. I don't know if it was necessary, but I removed more of the sex-scene. Those of you who are 18 and older can find the whole chapter on adultfanfiction. Enjoy!

**Warning! **Contains some smut! Don't like? Don't read!

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Chapter 16

It was the morning of New Year's Eve, and the weather was stormy. The wind was howling and without magic, it would have been impossible to keep the room warm. The first thing Voldemort did when he woke up was cast a warming spell over the bed. His wife was still asleep and she didn't seem to be bothered by the cold. She slept on peacefully with her hands on her big stomach.

Voldemort wasn't in the mood to leave the bed just yet. It was not even six am and if the newspaper was right, the storm hadn't reached its peak yet. It would hopefully be over in the evening. Since it was quite risky to Apparate in this weather (body parts could blow away before you managed to put them all together, or you could land somewhere dangerous and get a tree in your head), there was very little he could do. Except researching. This would be a perfect day to find out if the girl had had any breakthroughs. Although for that, she needed to be awake. He wouldn't make the mistake to wake her up before she was ready. The last time he did that, he got a pillow in his head and she had been sour and annoying all day. It wasn't worth it.

Instead, he hissed softly for Besch. The little serpent made her way up into the bed and stopped on Voldemort's chest.

"_What __has__ my mate done this last couple of days?_" he asked the serpent in Parsel.

"_She is always sitting with those book-things,_" Besch complained. "_No fun. Only fun was when half-female came and yelled._"

"_Half-female?_" Voldemort asked.

Besch nodded and told him how his wife had spoken to the "half-female" who smelled like wolf. Voldemort didn't know who this half-female was, although he guessed it was a werewolf. He would ask the girl about it. Besch told him that the girl and the half-female had spoken about power and some favour, however, she was unable to repeat the whole conversation. Voldemort stroked the serpent and listened with half an ear when she started to tell him about the mouse she had found a couple of hours ago.

So the girl tried to make friends? Well, he wasn't surprised. Hopefully she would make the right kind of friends. It sounded like this half-female could be good for her. She would need another woman to talk to once the child was born. He knew woman loved to talk about their little babies and he didn't want to listen to it. Hmm, speaking of the baby, he should call that Healer and ask her to do a check-up. If something was wrong with the baby, it would be even harder to care for it. He didn't want that.

He was pulled out from his thoughts when he heard a gasp from his right. His wife had woken up and she had probably seen the serpent. He couldn't help but to smile. Her fear was so amusing.

"Do you have to have her in the bed?" his very annoyed wife asked.

"Well, you were asleep and I didn't have anyone to talk to," he said and turned his head toward her. "And it was too early to get up."

The girl had a frown on her forehead. "Why are you even awake?"

"It was cold," he simply answered and helped Besch down to the floor before he turned his whole body toward his wife. "You didn't seem to notice."

She snorted. "No, I feel like a walking fireplace. I guess it's because of the baby."

He placed a hand on her stomach and nodded. She was very warm. He removed his hand. "I was thinking about getting you a Healer. Any wishes?"

She seemed surprised. "No I don't know any Healers, but thanks for asking."

He just smiled. He had been quite sure she didn't know anyone, so it was safe to ask for her opinion. She yawned and he watched as she absentmindedly scratched her breast. He arched an eyebrow as her finger started to move around her own nipple. What was she doing?

She suddenly noticed that he was staring and blushed furiously when she realised what she was doing.

"Don't stop for my sake," he said with a smirk.

"I… oh, it's just a breast!"

"I know what it is." He was still smirking. "But it looked like you were about to… pleasure yourself."

She bit her lip, but didn't meet his eyes. That was why her next words surprised him so much.

"Perhaps you could help me," she mumbled.

Both his eyebrows rose. "What?"

"You… well, with the baby… I'm feeling quite horny all the time but… I can barely reach myself anymore."

Voldemort just stared at her. He hadn't thought she enjoyed sex. Well, she seemed to enjoy it when they were in the middle of it but… wait. Did the girl mean she used to masturbate? All the time? He could feel himself harden. He was a man after all, and the thought of his wife masturbating all the time was very arousing. He could feel a smile creeping up on his face.

"So. You want my help?"

She bit her lip. "Yes please. Er…"

"What?"

"Could you… uhm… pleasuremeorally?"

Voldemort smirked. "Sorry, I didn't quite get that?"

She took a deep breath, he cheeks flaming nicely. He liked the reactions he got out from her.

"I just wondered if you could… use your tongue on me… down there?" the last words were spoken in a whisper.

"You mean down here?" he asked teasingly and captured her nipple between his lips. She gasped as he slowly played with her nipple between his teeth.

"Ah… perhaps a little lower?" she suggested in a husky voice.

He travelled down over her body and reached her cunt. He had never been fond of the taste, but what didn't you do for the people you wanted information from? When he was done with this, he was certain the girl would be more than happy to tell him who she met in the library. However he quickly grew tired of moving his tongue in and out of her cunt, so he let it travel up to her clit instead. He sucked hard and placed two fingers inside of her. When she reached climax, he let go of her and went to lie next to her instead. He slowly stroked her stomach as she came down from her orgasm.

"Kiss me!" she begged.

He hesitated, but then obeyed her. Her hands came up to his hair and she kissed him harder than he had expected. He slowly counted the seconds. He had learnt that if he kissed for more than twenty seconds, his body would start to betray him. His little succubus for a wife held more power over his body than he wanted. It was frightening how her kisses could make him loose control. He had never meant for their relationship to go past occasional shags. But then again, he had never meant for them to have a child either.

After nineteen seconds, he pulled away. The girl looked blissful. He sighed and tried to ignore the longing feeling in his groin. When she told him what he needed to know, he could shag her.

"Besch told me you met a friend in the library the other day, how did she managed to get in?" he asked in a low voice.

"You mean Reya? Malfoy brought her," his wife answered in a light tone.

Reya? Who the hell was Reya?

"But I don't know if we are friends," she continued. "I just tried to comfort her a little. Did you know that she was sick?"

Oh. That Reya. Or Miss Radcliff. He could see his wife and Miss Radcliff as friends. Miss Radcliff had never been any trouble. A bit of a loner, although she always seemed content... except when she got "sick" as she called it.

"What's wrong with her anyway? She acts like everyone knows what it is…"

"Oh, everyone knows what it is," Voldemort said with a smile. "She is a werewolf."

The girl looked surprised. "A werewolf? But she is so… small. And she seems so young."

"She is one of the few people who were born as a werewolf."

"Can werewolves get children?" she seemed very surprised.

"The males have no problem conceiving a child. Their children won't necessarily become a werewolf. But if both parents are werewolves, the child, if it survives in the mother's womb, will become a werewolf."

"If it survives?" she asked.

"Yes, if the mother is a werewolf, it's very unlikely that the child will survive the monthly transformation. Only if the father is a werewolf, the child stands a chance."

She sighed and turned toward him, her hand came up to his chest. "You know so much."

"I know," he answered smugly. "What did you and Miss Radcliff talk about?"

"Not much… Girl talk."

"What did Miss Radcliff and Malfoy do? I assume you mean Lucius, by the way."

"Exchanging favours," she mumbled. Her hand was creeping down over his abdomen. "Perhaps… I should do you a favour?"

"You really are horny," he remarked as her small hand grasped his erect cock.

"There's nothing wrong with that, everyone has needs," she said and slowly started to move her hand over his cock.

"Of course they do, dear," he mumbled, enjoying the feeling of her hand on his cock.

He was more than ready for round two. He rode her hard and fast and let her climax twice before he allowed himself to come. When they were done, she snuggled her back against him. He was too tired to push her away.

"Voldemort?"

"Hmm?" His eyes were closed and his head was swimming in post orgasmic bliss.

"You know, now that I have Besch, I can leave whenever I want…"

"Not until the baby is born." Her hair smelled quite nice. He inhaled her scent.

"Yeah, I know. But… don't you think I should have my wand, then? I am your wife, what if I have to protect myself?"

That sounded logical. He didn't want her to get hurt. Not much anyway. It wouldn't be good if someone else harmed her. He had other enemies besides the Order. People who wouldn't care that she was just a girl.

"Mm, you should."

"Perhaps I could get it right now? What if I have forgotten something?"

Wait a minute. The girl was trying to trick him into giving her the wand back! And she had used sex to do it! Merlin, he was very bad influence over her.

"Nice try," he mumbled into her hair. "You would never forget a spell. Why do you need your wand now?"

He could feel her tense. "I-I just miss it."

"Right." He sat up and turned her onto her back. "What are you after?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Answer me," he said softly and tilted her chin upwards.

She looked at him with guilty eyes. "I just want to do magic again. I feel helpless without it."

He arched his eyebrow. "Why do I get the feeling you are lying?"

She sighed. "Look, even if I get my wand, what can I do against you? I can't hurt you."

He frowned. "But you can work against me. Are you working against me?"

"_Nooo_." She blinked.

"You are lying," he said in disbelief. "You are trying to free Potter, aren't you?"

Her eyes hardened. "He is my best friend; of course I'm trying to free him!"

He sighed and his hand travelled down to her stomach. "Husbands stand above best friends, girl. You should be helping me, not him!"

"How can I help a man who clearly doesn't even know what my name is?" she spat back.

"I know what you name is," he hissed. "It's Hermione _Riddle._ And our child will be called Riddle. Your loyalties should be lying with me! The father of your child! I provide for you! I keep you safe! I fuck you when you want me too!"

Her eyes were wide and she looked a bit scared. "But you never ask for my opinion. You never ask what I want, what I dream about. We may be married on the paper, but I'm not your wife."

"In all fairness, _Hermione_, you never ask me what I want or dream about either." He rolled off her and got up from the bed. "But if you want to have that damned wand so much, I'll give it to you. But remember that if anything happens to Potter, I'll know you did it."

He went into the bathroom and closed the door. Why did he suddenly feel so depressed?

xxx

Hermione weighed her wand in her hand. It felt just like it had done seven months ago. She swung it and some red stars escaped from the tip. She smiled and cast a silent spell. A flower appeared. She couldn't help but to laugh. It felt so nice to have a wand in her hand again. She had felt handicapped without it.

"Thank you," she said and looked up at her husband. She wasn't angry at him anymore, but he still seemed to be angry with her.

He just grunted and placed a couple of books on the dark table. They were in the library. She had arrived there a couple of hours earlier to do some more research. He had got there just a moment ago, handing her the wand.

"Show me what you have found," he ordered and took up a piece of parchment with her handwriting on.

"I haven't found much," she confessed. "There is so much to go through from the library in Switzerland, and all of it is very exciting…"

"I told you to look for the Cups," he hissed as he read through the scroll. "What is this?"

She took the scroll. "Oh, it's about how to grow up as a magical prince. I thought that, since our child will be… well, not a prince, but he or she will be very famous. Everyone will know who he is. And this book was very informative… and quite sad. He fell in love with a Muggle, and his father killed her when he found out he had made her pregnant. But he didn't seem so sad, because a couple of months later, he was together with his sister's maid…"

"Very interesting, indeed," Voldemort interrupted her. "And I will do the exact same thing if my son sleeps with a Muggle."

"Then I'll make sure you never founds out," Hermione muttered under her breath. Voldemort gave her a questioning look. "Er… What if it is a girl?"

"Well, then I would torture the Muggle and force her to have an abortion. It's bad enough that my in-laws are Muggles, I will not stand for a Muggle son-in-law. In fact, I think I'll decide whom our child will marry."

Hermione looked at him where he sat with his nose in another scroll. It was still snowing outside, but the fireplace behind his chair made the room warm enough. Hermione stood and went over to the nearest bookshelf. Voldemort's library couldn't compete with the one in Hogwarts, however it was quite impressive. She had done some redecorating and placed all the books she hadn't read in a new shelf. When she was done with it, she placed them in an alphabetized order with the rest of the books.

"Speaking of my parents," she said as she sat down with a new book. "Do you know anything?" She had thought about it a lot the last week, but never got the opportunity to ask him. Something else always came in the way.

His eyes stopped moving over the text. He sighed and looked up. "As I had suspected, they are not recorded in our files. It could be a lesser Death Eater who wanted to have fun and decided to kill them, but since there was no Dark Mark over their house, I doubt it."

"Who did it then?" she asked.

"How should I know?" his eyes started to move over the text again. "This is ridiculous; do all your thoughts revolve around the child?"

"Is it the one about how to change nappies with magic?"

"Yes."

"Then you are just unlucky, I only have those two scrolls."

He made a grimace and took up another scroll instead. Hermione tried to focus on the book in front of her, but she couldn't stop thinking about her parents. She had been very sad when she found out they were missing, however, she had managed to live with it. Nevertheless, she wanted to know what had happened to them! She wasn't naïve enough to think they were still alive, but she wanted to know. Who had taken them? Or had they been in an accident?

"I want to visit Remus," she said.

Voldemort looked up at her with a frown. "The werewolf? Whatever for?"

"I want to know what happened to my parents."

"I'm your husband; shouldn't you be asking me for help?" Did he sound jealous?

"Do you care about what happened to my Muggle parents?" She arched her eyebrows.

"No."

"And if you found out what happened to them, would you tell me?"

"Of course I would!" he said, sounding like she had insulted him.

"Even if you found out that they were still alive?"

He blinked.

"I thought so." She got up from the chair.

He sighed. "Fine, I promise I'll tell you about your parents. If I find anything. And if you want to talk to the werewolf so damn much, you can owl him and tell him how you are. However, I will read the letter before you send it."

She crossed her arms. "But I want to meet him!"

"You can meet him once the child is born," he said in a final tone.

She knew it wasn't any use to argue. He had already given her the wand back; he would only get angry if she pushed it. She sat down at the table again and opened the book. The wind kept blowing outside. Blowing in the New Year.


	17. Chapter 17

I'm so sorry, it took so long to update. But now, both Ankoku Dezaia and Lady-Gizzy have helped me to correct this chapter! Thank you so much my helping angels!

So, one with the show!

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Chapter 17

Voldemort didn't know why, but he continued to have intercourse with his wife every morning. Perhaps it was his way to remind his wife whom she belonged too. Or perhaps he was just being horny. Neither he, nor the girl complained about it.

January flew by quickly. He locked Potter into another prison cell and left him alone for the whole month. The boy hadn't been well since the last questioning and Voldemort didn't want to be too hard on him. He had more fun with a slow torture.

The girl didn't have any breakthrough with the Cups. Voldemort got the feeling she was working on something else, however, he didn't bring it up. She would pay if she did something stupid, not that he thought she would. Especially since the baby wasn't born. She was getting very large and she was always complaining about her back, feet, breasts or some other body part. Perhaps he was just fucking her so she would shut up.

At the beginning of February, Voldemort came back to the room very late. He went straight to the shower even if it was the middle of the night. He and his Death Eater's had a very busy night in China. They were trying to win popularity in other parts of the world, and they found it in Asia. Not from the rulers though. They didn't want to let go of their power for some reason. Nevertheless, Voldemort was quite good at convincing people to carry out his wishes. It was all about finding their weaknesses.

Who would have known that the Magical Emperor of China's weakness was his kittens? Voldemort chuckled as he washed himself clean. That was another thought; who would have known cats could be such a big mess?

A couple of minutes later, he crawled into bed next to his wife. She sighed and turned her head toward him, still asleep. She looked very young while she was sleeping. Too young to be married, especially to someone like him. If he had any compassion, he would feel sorry for her. With that thought, he fell asleep, not knowing how much he would feel sorry for himself in just a couple of hours.

xxx

"_Voldemort_!"

He groaned and didn't open his eyes. Was it so wrong to get a couple of hours sleep?

"Please wake up."

Was the girl sobbing? Why was she sobbing? He opened his eyes.

"Voldemort, I'm not feeling well." Her eyes were filled with tears and she pressed her hand against her stomach. "There is something wrong with the baby!"

He sat up and pulled down her blanket. It looked like she had peed herself… however, as far as he knew, women didn't pee blood.

"I'll get a Healer," he said and flew up from the bed. A couple of seconds later, he was dressed with his wand in his hand.

"No! Don't leave me!" she begged.

He hesitated, then sent out a message to Snape's Mark. He went to sit down next to the bed again. The girl took his hand and clenched it in hers. He made a grimace and patted her hand.

"There, there, I have called for help," he said, trying to comfort her. She didn't look very comforted.

Thankfully, Severus showed up just a moment later. "Master?" He bowed.

"There is something wrong with her." he simply said to Severus.

The Potions Master looked at the girl, seeming to be quite uncomfortable. "Hmm… I'm not a Healer, but I will bring you one. Perhaps you should keep her dry and warm?" Snape suggested and then disappeared through the door.

Voldemort released his hand from her grip and waved his wand over her, making the blood disappear. Then he placed the blanket over her again and stroked her hair. "I do take care of you, my wife."

Hermione just closed her eyes and sobbed. Sighing, he counted the seconds until Severus was back. He was still tired and quite nauseous from before and on top of that, he hated not knowing what to do. Thankfully, Severus came back quickly and had brought that Dutch Healer. Relieved, Voldemort got away from his wife and let the Healer take his place. Now she could get her hand squeezed instead.

"This is not my area of expertise," she said seriously when she flicked her wand over the girl. "My guess is that the baby wants to get out. You should take her to a Healer who knows more about birth."

Voldemort sighed and turned toward Severus. "Do we have any other Healers?"

"We do. However, I don't think they know more about births. I brought her because she is a woman." Severus answered.

He noticed how the Healer rolled her eyes, but ignored it. "Well, I can't take her to St. Mungos."

"Perhaps another country?" Snape suggested.

"She shouldn't travel that far in her condition," the Healer quickly said.

Voldemort choose to ignore her again. A headache was building up and he knew it was because the girl was not feeling well. He had to do something. He couldn't let any of his Death Eaters go with her, they wouldn't be able to take care of her, and he couldn't go himself. He went over to his wife again. She had finally stopped crying and seemed to be focusing on her breathing.

"You need to get to St. Mungos," he said matter-of-factly. "But you can't go alone."

"Can't you fetch Remus?" she asked, trying not to cry. She looked so small and helpless. Her face was white against the dark sheets and she was sweating. Her hair had seen much better days.

He sighed. Could he run to the werewolf for help again? Well, there was a small chance that people would think Lupin was working for him. Why else would he bring the Dark Lord's wife to the hospital? Ah, spreading rumours was always fun.

"Fine, I'll fetch the werewolf." He stood and quickly hurried to the nearest Apparation point.

First, he went to the werewolf's house. It was a small cottage with just a couple of rooms. Voldemort went around it in the overgrown garden and looked into the windows, but no one seemed to be home. He Apparated to one of the hiding places Potter had told him about. He didn't found anyone. After about half an hour, he was getting quite desperate. He Apparated to one final place and his luck was made. Well, sort of.

Lupin and three other Order members were sitting in a small coffee house in a Muggle town. Potter had said they used to go here for some meetings when they wanted to avoid other wizards. Voldemort recognised Lupin, Dumbledore and Shacklebolt, not the witch. He smiled when he realised this were the leaders of the Order. Now if the other leaders would start to doubt the werewolf's alliances, everything would be just fine.

Except for the part that he was going to be a father. He sighed and transfigured his robes into Muggle clothes and changed his appearance. He had to say that he managed better than the wizards. Lupin, Shacklebolt and the woman could be mistaken for Muggles, not the old Headmaster. Dumbledore was wearing some sort of blue and white tunica over bright yellow trousers. On top of his head, he had a blue and yellow sunhat. Voldemort sighed and ordered a cup of coffee. He didn't usually drink coffee, nevertheless, he had a feeling he would need the boost.

With the cup in his hand, he made his way to their table. He pulled out a chair from another table and squeezed in between the werewolf and the Auror.

"Hi," he said and took a sip form his coffee.

The four looked at him with quite puzzled eyes. He could see that three of them were wondering who he was. The fourth was only wondering what he was doing there. The fourth was Dumbledore and Voldemort knew what he was thinking, because he spoke aloud.

"What are you doing here?"

"Drinking coffee." Voldemort answered nonchalantly and took another sip. He could see that all four had their hands on their wands. He didn't bother, he knew they wouldn't hurt him once he told them about his wife.

"What kind of game are you playing Tom?" Dumbledore asked in a suspicious tone. The other three understood who he was and gasped. Voldemort smirked into his cup, he always loved to cause a scene.

"Game, Albus? There is no game. This is a matter of life or death. For my wife."

"What have you done to Hermione?" Lupin asked and aimed his wand toward Voldemort.

"Nothing. Well, I did knock her up, and now it seems to be a problem. However, I do care very much for my wife." That was a lie, but appearing to be a loving husband and father was a part of his new plan to gain more followers. "The problem is that I can't really show myself in a hospital. Neither can my Death Eaters. However, my wife is so awfully fond of Lupin, so I figured he would be more than happy to accompany her."

Lupin rose. "Of course I will."

"Wait, Remus," Shacklebolt said. "How do we know that this isn't a trap?"

"You don't." Voldemort said with a smirk and took a final sip from his cup before he put it down on the table. "However, I'll be more than happy to tell my wife that her friends don't care about her anymore."

"Give me an oath that this isn't a trick and then I'll come," Lupin growled.

Voldemort shrugged and gave him the oath before he rose from the table. "It was a pleasure to meet you." He bowed teasingly and was about to go when Dumbledore stopped him.

"I would like to have a meeting with you, Tom."

Voldemort arched his eyebrows. "What can we possibly have to discuss, Albus?"

"A thing or two. I promise you that it isn't a trap."

Voldemort tilted his head curiously. "I'll send you an owl."

He and Lupin left. Voldemort hoped Dumbledore hadn't noticed the recorder he had put on the table when he had left his cup. It would be very interesting to know who that lady was. Although he didn't have time to look into it now.

It took them fifteen minutes to get back to Voldemort's headquarters. The Healer told him that the girl was having contractions every twenty minutes and that they needed to get her to a Healer quickly. Voldemort gave Lupin a magical walky-talky so he would be able to know what was going on. Just to tease the werewolf, he kissed his wife before he let the other man take her away. Then he threw out the other two and sank down on the bed. Finally, he was able to sleep again!

xxx

Hermione was more than happy to see Remus, but she was in too much pain to show it. All that kept her sane was the thought of castrating Voldemort once the baby was born. She would not give him any pain-killers, and she would use a blunt knife. Hopefully, he would get an infection.

When she arrived to the hospital, she was immediately shipped to the emergency area. The Healers asked Remus all questions (which month she was in, if she was allergic, what Healer they had seen before…). Remus tried to answer even if he didn't know half of the things. An annoyed Healer asked what kind of husband he was, and Remus truthfully said that he wasn't the father at all.

"Where is the father, then?" the Healer asked. She and another Healer were examining Hermione who was lying on some sort of bed. They had given her a hospital gown, but Hermione didn't really care if she was dressed or not. She just wanted the damn baby out from her body!

"He is… unavailable at the moment," Remus answered, holding Hermione's hand.

The Healer sighed and wrote something on a note board. "Well, it seems like some curse has started the process earlier than expected. Have you been near any Dark objects the last month?"

"You mean my husband?" Hermione snorted. "Or our library? Or my new pet, Besch the serpent?"

The Healer blinked at her, then looked at Remus for an explanation.

"Hmm… her husband is a known Dark wizard. She was married to him against her will," Remus explained lamely.

The Healer's eyes narrowed. "Are you joking?"

Remus sighed. "I'm afraid not."

"Well, then we have to do a Cleansing. Have you no idea how dangerous Dark Arts are for a pregnant woman?"The question was aimed toward Hermione.

"Of course I do, but my husband doesn't care about it!" she hissed. She was in far too much pain to be nice.

The Healers forced Remus to leave, despite Hermione's protest, and then left to fetch some equipment. Hermione lay there for a moment, staring at the yellowish walls and waited for them to come back. When she saw Voldemort again, she would kick him. Hard.

A couple of minutes later, the healers came back. Now they were dressed in some kind of purple protecting-robe. They wore masks over their faces as well.

One of the Healers squeezed her shoulder. "This will be a bit unpleasant. We have to make sure nothing more happens to you or the baby." She then aimed her wand at Hermione.

She felt a very unpleasant sensation, like she was dropped into cold water and then dragged out of her skin. Closing her eyes she moaned and noticed that she couldn't hear her own voice. A moment later, it was all over. Except for the contractions which kept coming more and more often. She felt dizzy. Someone then touched her vagina, but not in a sexual way. It was then she heard them say she was ready to give birth. Oh, Merlin.

For the next couple of hours, she cried, screamed and pushed. The Healers gave her water and potions against the pain. Hermione started to wonder if it would ever end. And then…

"I can see the head!" a Healer said. "Just one more push…"

Emptiness. She could feel the baby leave her womb and come out in the world. She cried, but she didn't know if it was because of pain or relief. Another cry mixed with hers, the cry of a small baby. Hermione could feel her heart speed up. Oh, sweet Merlin, she had had a little person inside of her. How did that happen? She could feel her eyelashes grow heavy. Then there was nothing.

When Hermione woke up again, she was clean and Remus was sitting next to her. He smiled when he saw her waking up.

"Hi," he said and squeezed her hand gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy," she mumbled. The room was spinning and she had a sticky stench in her nose. It smelled… clean. Too clean. It took her a moment to realise that she was the one who smelled. They must have washed her face with some anti-bacterial soap. "How is the baby?"

"He is just fine. The Healers are doing an examination. So far, everything seems to be fine. You'll have him in no time," he assured her.

"He?" Hermione asked. "A boy?"

"Yes, a very small boy. He was born almost two months too early. Mrs. Cabozki, your Healer, said that they will give him a nurturing potion you can feed him the first couple of months. Besides the breast milk, of course."

"Of course," Hermione yawned. This seemed very unreal. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Not long, an hour tops. You should try to get some more sleep. They will wake you when they come with the baby."

Hermione yawned again and nodded. Yes, that sounded reasonable. Sleep…

A Healer woke her up next time. She seemed to be middle-aged. Her blond hair was tied in a ponytail and she had wrinkles around her eyes. Hermione thought she had been one of the Healers who had helped her deliver the baby, although she wasn't sure. All those pain-potions made her brain a bit shaky. The Healer held up a small blanket and gave it to Hermione.

"This is your son," she said in a friendly voice. "He is perfectly healthy. One of his ears is a bit bigger than the other at the moment, however, I'm sure they will have the same size soon enough. He has been exposed to a lot of Dark Arts, so there may be some… mental complications when he grows older, but with love, I'm sure he will be alright."

Hermione frowned. Mental complication? Like the ones Voldemort had? Her worries were washed away when she looked down at the baby. She was mesmerized by the small face inside the green blanket. How could he be so little? He was asleep, but when Hermione opened the blanket a little, his hand closed around her finger and he opened his eyes. Big pale-grey eyes looked into hers. They were about to darken already and Hermione was sure the baby would have her eye-colour when he grew up. The baby yawned and Hermione couldn't help it, she fell madly in love with the child.

The child began to scream.

"What did I do wrong?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

Mrs. Cabozki gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he is probably just hungry. Put him to your breast and we'll see if he wants it. Sometimes it takes a couple of tries, so don't worry if he won't take it directly."

Hermione simply nodded and unbuttoned the front of her gown. The baby let out a tiny whimper when she pulled down his blanket so he could reach her left breast. Thankfully, the baby grabbed the breast immediately and began to suck. Hermione made a grimace. Her son was as hard-mouthed as his father. However, even if the child sucked, no milk appeared.

"Hmm… It may take some time before your body starts to produce milk. Don't worry; I'll give you a bottle." The Healer left to find some milk.

Hermione sighed and looked down at her little boy who had begun to scream again. "Don't worry, you'll have food soon," she told him.

The baby kept screaming. Mrs. Cabozki came back with a bottle, and with Remus. She gave Hermione the bottle and instructed her how she would feed her son. Hermione felt very clumsy even if the Healer assured her that she was doing just fine. After a while, the little boy drank most of the bottle. The Healer showed her what she should do to burp him and then left to take care of something else.

"This feels silly," Hermione admitted.

"You seem to do just fine," Remus assured her and stroked her cheek. Hermione smiled at him.

Remus pulled back and cleared his throat. "I spoke with you husband."

Hermione's smile disappeared. "Oh? And what did he say?"

"He was glad that everything had gone well and… he wants you to get the Healers to release you so he can find a private Healer for the two of you." Remus seemed uncomfortable.

"Then you can tell him that I won't go home until we have a real home. A home where my son and I can wander around without meeting any Death Eaters!"

Remus seemed to be a bit taken aback by her temper. She didn't care. Her worry about the "mental complications" came back again. She would not have her son raised around Death Eaters if there was any possibility that he would become like Voldemort. She just wouldn't allow it.

Her thought were interrupted by something wet on her shoulder. The child had burped all over her. Remus helped her clean it up and then the Healer came back with some food and told Remus that he had to leave for the night. The sleeping boy was put away in a small bed at the end of Hermione's. The Healer also helped Hermione use the bathroom and to walk around a little.

"I don't understand why my stomach is hurting," Hermione said when they got back to the bed. Her stomach began to hurt while they had been walking around.

"Well, the child wasn't due for another two months… the curse that made it come earlier affected you as well. Do you have any idea what kind of curse it was?" the Healer asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I thought you did a Cleansing."

"Yes, we stopped the Dark Magic from spreading, but we couldn't heal what the curse had already damaged because we don't know what it is."

Hermione sighed and tried to pull up the blanket. Even if her stomach had almost disappeared, she still wasn't very supple. "I'll talk to my husband about it."

The Healer helped her with the blanket. "I… I looked in you file and I assume that the father is your husband?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, I haven't heard about a Tom Riddle, and your friend indicated that he was… a wanted criminal?" the Healer asked carefully.

"Yes he is. I'm not."

"No, I didn't mean that," the Healer quickly assured. "It's just that… I have never heard of a criminal named Tom Riddle."

Hermione sighed and lay down against the pillow. "Have you heard about You-Know-Who?"

The woman's eyes widened. "Of course I have!"

"Well, do you really think that is his birth name?" she closed her eyes and she could hear the woman gasp and hurry away. She couldn't resist smirking. Voldemort was indeed bad influence on her, it was quite fun to cause a scene.

This time, she must have slept for four or five hours, because when she woke up, it was dark outside. What woke her up were small cries coming from her baby. However, they didn't come from the end of the bed. She opened her eyes and turned her head toward her right. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming. The moon, not full, but it would be in just a couple of days, shone into the room through the small window and lit up half the face of the person sitting on the chair next to her. He was dressed in a soft black robe and his skin seemed to be made of the whitest marble. The only colour was his eyes which burned in a deep red under the perfect eyebrows. Voldemort looked like an angel of death where he sat, slowly rocking his son back and forth.

"He is perfect," Voldemort said in a slow low voice. "Your eyes and my hair."

"Give him to me," she said and held out her arms.

"Your werewolf friend said that you wouldn't come back home before I had got us a new place to live," he continued, pretending not to hear her.

"Give him to me," she demanded her voice higher than before.

"However, you will come back with me, Hermione." Her name was spoken with such intensity that she shuddered. "Not only do you have to obey my every wish, but now you have to think of the welfare of your son. Our son…"

"If you hurt one hair…"

"Hurt him?" he let out a surprised laugh. "Why in Salazar's name would I hurt him? This boy gives me so many opportunities. The press will love this, The Dark Lord as a father. Of course they will laugh at first, but then… then they will start thinking... thinking about that perhaps I will be good for this country. I mean, I have a child, I can't be all that bad."

Hermione could feel the terror creeping up in her stomach. "But then… your old minions won't respect you anymore. They will leave you…"

He laughed again. "My dear, sweet Hermione. I reassured them about my power a long time ago. They know what I'm capable of. They won't go against me." He stood up with the child. "Neither will you. Because if you do…" He kissed the top of his son's head. "Let's just say that I know a place or two where he will grow up to a perfect little boy… without his mummy." He put the baby back in the small bed again, pulled his chair closer to the bed and sat down.

Hermione was shocked. "You can't…"

"I can. Now, be a good little wife and tell the nice Healers that you want to go home immediately. I will have someone here around noon to pick you up." He bent down to kiss her. She turned her head away. He sighed. "Don't be like that, dear. I'm only doing what I think is best."

"Best for you, you mean." she hissed, not looking at him.

"Of course. Now, give your husband a kiss."

She refused to turn her head. He bent over her and kissed her anyway. A very hard kiss with his teeth in her lower lip. She didn't move. He got up and left without another word. Hermione cried herself to sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

Okay, not so long chapter, but the next one will be longer! And there are some snogging and mentioning of other things in this chapter, but nothing to wild! Thank you Lady-Gizzy for looking this through!

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Chapter 18

Albus Dumbledore had spent most of his life in Hogwarts. He had seen gifted and less gifted students pass the school's halls. He had even seen some very gifted students in his days. Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger had been two of them. If they had been at the school at the same time, Dumbledore wouldn't have been surprised if they ended up as either best friends or arch nemesis. They were very much alike in many ways; ambitious, strong-minded, hard-working and incurable know-it-alls. True, Tom had never felt the need to show off his knowledge all the time like Hermione had. Instead, he had only showed off every time he felt that people needed to be reminded about how talented he was.

Perhaps it had been for the best that they weren't in the school at the same time. The teacher would probably not have been able to stand them both at the same time.

Nevertheless, now they were together. Dumbledore had no idea what to think of it. Voldemort may be one of the most unpleasant men alive; however, he may also be one of the few people who managed to deal with a girl like Hermione. A less dominating man would not be a challenge for her. She would drive the poor wizard to total submission and that was never good for a relationship.

However, if the two of them found a way to work together, the world would be at their feet. Dumbledore couldn't allow that. He had tried to kill Voldemort through Hermione twice now, but both times had been unsuccessful. He would have to think of something else.

xxx

A lesser female Death Eater came to the hospital under the appearance of being Hermione's cousin. Hermione didn't bother to ask for her real name. She just let the Death Eater Apparate them to the headquarters after the Healers gave her all the things she and the baby would need for the next month. They would go back for a check up after a month, unless they were able to find a private Healer.

Hermione held her son close to her body as the Death Easter lead her to her husband. She was still angry with him, but it was hard to be angry when you had such a lovely little creature next to your chest.

She entered hers and Voldemort's room after the Death Eater bowed and left. It looked just like it had done two days before, only now there was a small crib at the end of their bed. Voldemort was standing next to it. He smiled when she entered. She glared.

"Why the sore face, Hermione?" he asked.

She blinked. "Why have you started to call me by my name?"

He shrugged and started to walk toward her. "I thought it could be acceptable now when we share a child. Let me hold him."

Hermione held her son tightly to her body. "Why?"

"I haven't had a good look at him yet. Let me hold him, or I'll stun you and take the baby. Stunning isn't hurting," he threatened firmly.

Rather than risk dropping the baby, Hermione gave him the boy.

Voldemort smiled as he looked at his son. "He is adorable!"

Hermione arched her eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

Voldemort held the child perfectly. Where had he learned how to do that? "Do you know why Lucius Malfoy isn't wanted, even though he has done hideous crimes?"

Hermione went over to the bed and sank down. The Healers had given her a pepper-up potion, but it was starting to wear off and she was very tired. "Because he did those things in your name instead of his own, and he is rich so he can get away with it?"

"Besides that," Voldemort came over to the bed as well.

"No, then I don't know. Give him back, I have to feed him."

Voldemort gave their son back to her and Hermione took out a bottle from her backpack.

"Aren't you going to breast feed him?" Voldemort asked.

"No, I can't produce milk yet. The Healer said that it may have to do with the curse that put me in labour earlier than expected."

"Curse? What curse?" Voldemort's eyes winded.

"Some Dark Arts curse that is probably your fault."

"How could it be my fault? I can't hurt you that way," Voldemort remarked thoughtfully. "Ah, well, about Malfoy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Voldemort didn't notice.

"Most good people believe that bad people don't know what love is. And it's very clear to everyone that Lucius loves his wife and son… alas, he can't be very evil. Also, he is good-looking and that always helps."

"I think Lucius is evil," Hermione objected.

"Well, you are not most good people. In fact, I don't even act very pure and mighty anymore."

"How very nice of you to say so," Hermione said dryly and took away the empty bottle from her son's mouth. Her son let out a small yawn.

"Yes, isn't it? I can always hope it's my good influence. Because, unlike what most 'good' people think, there is no good or evil. Only in books."

Hermione sighed. "I know, I know, there is only power, the winner writes history, the one with most power appears to be the good one in the end…"

"Exactly," he purred and took the baby from her. He threw a towel over his shoulder and placed the child against him. "So now when I have a lovely wife and child, all the good people think I'm not that bad… and hello power."

Hermione watched in shock how Voldemort made the child burp and then wiped his mouth clean with the towel. Where had he learned that?

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.

"Because you are going to help me, my dear. When people ask, you will tell them how good I am with the baby and how lovely I am."

"I won't lie for you," she snorted and took the child from him. The pepper-up potion had completely worn off now and she just wanted to put the baby to sleep and then fall asleep herself.

"But you will," he purred and leaned closer toward her. "I was very angry when we became married and you got pregnant, but I'm over that. Now, I only see the advantages. You have opened my eyes, Hermione. I don't need to kill the ones I can manipulate and deceive into following me... and you are going to help me manipulate them.

"No, I won't," she said. How could he believe that she would do anything for him?

"Yes, you will, because you will do anything to help your friend."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Do you mean Harry?"

Voldemort nodded with a smile. "Yes, I mean Harry. I will let him go. But only if you allow a famous correspondent to interview you. In this interview, you will tell them how wonderful I am, and how good I am with our son. How much I have changed thanks to your love." He smiled cruelly. "And to prove that I have changed, I will let Harry go."

Hermione stared at him for several seconds before she answered. "You have already got everything you want out from Harry, right?"

"Yes, and I have put a spell on him so he can't tell anyone what he have said."

"You are clever."

"Thank you."

With her head spinning out of anger and exhaustion, she slapped him. Not hard, however, hard enough to make her point.

He touched his cheek. "I did not see that one coming." He got up from the bed. "I'll send an owl to the newspaper and tell them they can interview you, then I'll get you a private Healer who will see what kind of curse you are under. I suggest you rest."

Hermione stared after him. What the hell was wrong with him?

xxx

Voldemort entered the big meeting room. Many of his Death Eaters were already there, sitting in small groups, probably gossiping. Voldemort stood in the doorway for a moment and listened to his Death Eaters. They were talking about him and his new status as a father. It sounded like they were surprised. He closed the door with a bang. It effectively made all the gossip stop. He went to stand at the podium. He was a political leader, not a king, so he liked to stand behind a podium.

He let his eyes wander over his minions. There were lots of them now. He was becoming very popular in other countries. Especially in Asia for some reason. It would be easy to take over the world after he gained immortality. Until then, he would just let the rumour about how good he would be for the world spread.

Some of his Death Eaters appeared uncomfortable. He decided to address them.

"Anything wrong, Rowle?" he asked one of the uncomfortable Death Eaters.

The tall board man cleared his throat. "No, Sire."

"Don't lie. _Crucio_." The man fell down with a scream. Voldemort was merciful enough not to let the spell go on for long. He turned his attention toward another Death Eater. "What do you say, Featherwell, is anything bothering you?"

The young blond man looked a bit frightened. It was the first time he had been addressed by the Dark Lord. "N-no, my Lord. Not bothering… I… or… Some of us are just a bit… curious about… well… your son."

Voldemort smiled. "Ah, yes. I do believe I will be a good father." He stepped down from the podium and started to walk among his Death Eaters. "Discipline is something I have always encouraged. As are knowledge and power. What more do you need to raise a child?"

Some of his Death Eaters chuckled. Voldemort stopped next to a small Death Eater. They were all wearing masks so he wasn't sure who he was, however, that didn't matter.

"And I have always known the importance of punishment." He sent out a small electric shock into the back of the small Death Eater. The man yelped and sank down on the floor. The other Death Eaters laughed. As long as they weren't the subject of his wand, they always liked to watch a good torture-session.

Voldemort walked back to the podium. "But enough about me. I want to know about the search of magical artefacts in Brazil. Follow me to my office Thomson."

He never let any Death Eaters share information in a group. They only received hints on what he was doing, never how the missions went (although, they could guess how it went sometimes, Voldemort was not the best when it came to masking his anger). He had a meeting office where he let most of his Death Eaters make their reports.

For the next three hours, he sat in his office and listened to his Death Eaters' reports. He could hear how the other Death Eaters had some sort of revel in the meeting room. Probably a Muggle they had captured. Animals, all of them. Voldemort could enjoy a little S&M sometimes… mostly it was just sadism… however, he preferred to be alone, or with just a selected few. Not in front two hundred people. That was just showing off.

When he had finished taking reports and giving out new missions, he went back into the meeting room. As he expected, the Death Eaters were enjoying an orgy of sex and alcohol… and some duelling. It looked like someone would end up dead. They were so decadent. Voldemort shocked his head and searched for Severus. He had told the Potions Master not to leave.

He finally spotted the younger man in a dark corner of the room. When he came closer, he also saw the red hair of a woman. Oh, Severus was getting lucky… with Miss Radcliff. Voldemort smirked and went to stand next to the couple. They were too busy to notice him. Severus had his hand on the woman's arse and she seemed to have her hand wrapped around his cock inside his robes. They were snogging like there was no tomorrow.

Voldemort cleared his throat, but the couple didn't seem to listen. He sighed and tapped the Potions Master's arm. Severus broke the kiss with the woman and turned his head. The scowl disappeared when he saw his master.

"My Lord." Severus didn't sound like his normal self. Perhaps it was because the woman had decided to attack his neck.

"Severus," Voldemort said with a smile. "Miss Radcliff."

The woman looked at him and for a moment. Voldemort wondered if she was about to transform into a werewolf. She actually growled at him. But when Severus squeezed her butt, she purred and went back to what ever she was doing with his neck.

"How ca… oh… can I help you?" Severus asked.

Voldemort looked down at the woman. "Well, don't let her turn you into a werewolf. There are only two days left until full moon."

Severus just smirked. If he hadn't been able to focus on what Voldemort was saying, Voldemort would never have tolerated this. However, Severus was something over the usual. And Merlin knows how much he needed a shag. So Voldemort let it be.

"Once you are done with her, I need you to find the best private Healer you can for my wife." Voldemort noticed how the woman stopped her movement.

"What's wrong with Mrs Riddle?" Severus asked.

"If I had the time, I would find out myself," Voldemort said. "But I don't, so you get to do it instead. But please, carry on. I want you to find the Healer as soon as you can."

"Yes, My Lord," Severus said and turned his focus toward the woman again. Voldemort rolled his eyes and turned to leave, but bumped into Lucius.

"Was that Miss Radcliff," Lucius asked in a harsh tone.

Voldemort arched his eyebrow. "That is no way to speak to your Master, Lucius. _Crucio_." He let Lucius go after just a couple of seconds.

"I… forgive me, my Lord," Lucius got up on his feet again. "I… I was merely surprised to see Severus with… that werewolf slut."

Voldemort just rolled his eyes again and let the blond man go. Sometimes it felt like he was the only sane person in the world. He left the room. Now he had to go and see those newly collected artefacts. He had sent a group of Death Eaters to Brazil to look for one of the Cups and they said that they found something they couldn't identify. It would be interesting to know what it was.

Three more hours and Voldemort came back from the stores empty-handed and with a headache. There had been a cup there, but it had been made of gold and the only thing it did was to turn water in to alcohol. Who would want that anyway? Alcohol was just… something that made you lose control. Why would anyone want to lose control? He sighed. His headache had increased during the last couple of hours. Probably because his wife wasn't feeling well. He would need to take care of her if he wanted to feel well again. It was very annoying.

When he came back to his bedroom, he found his wife still in the bed, asleep. Their son was lying in the crib, awake. Voldemort picked him up. He knew a lot about babies even if he hated them. There had only been two ways to shut the babies up in the orphanage; either you shut them up for good, or you did what they needed. Since he always got a caning when he tried to put tape over the babies' mouths, he had learned how to change nappies and feed them.

Not that he would ever put a tape over his own baby's mouth. That would just be wrong. He wasn't a devil, he was a wizard. He knew how to use silencing-spells now. The child stared at him. Then he opened his mouth and screamed. Hermione sat up in the bed and he almost groaned as his head started to throb painfully.

"What did you do?" she asked, alarmed.

"Relax," he answered, annoyed. "He only needs a new diaper. I'll take care of it… Lolly!"

Their personal House-Elf appeared and Voldemort handed her the baby. Just because he knew how to change a diaper didn't mean he liked it. He did hate crying babies more than anything. Voldemort went over to his wife instead.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Groggy," she answered. "Could you help me to the bathroom?"

"So now you want my help?" he asked smugly. But still relieved. If it looked like he didn't want to help his wife, he may be able to get through this with his dignity intact.

"Well you are going to sleep here too…," she mumbled.

He chuckled and helped her up. No one enjoyed sleeping in pee. His wife leaned against him as they went to the bathroom.

"Oh, Merlin I feel like I will throw up," she mumbled.

"You have already done it over me before," he muttered back and helped her to sit down on the toilet.

She smiled and then bent down her head and closed her eyes. "I'll need more pain-potion."

"I don't think so; you can hardly stand as it is," he said and leaned against the wall. Giving her a pain-killer may make his headache go away for a while. However Voldemort had never been much for temporary solutions. He needed to do this the hard way.

"But I'm in pain!" He could hear her wince as she started to pee. Good thing neither of them had any modesty "Give me some paper."

"Do you want me to wipe you too?"

"No."

He smiled and gave her the paper, then he helped her out to the bed again.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked and tried to find a comfortable position in the bed. "Are you just fussing so I'll help you with that interview?"

He snorted. "I'm the Dark Lord, I don't _fuss_."

"Yeah, right." She was lying on her side with her knees bent and her eyes closed. She was quite pale and sweaty.

He sighed and decided to tell her the truth. "If you have to know, I had a headache during the whole time you were in labour. And now it has come back. I know that if I want to make it go away permanently, I have to really heal you."

"Oh, I'm so sorry _you _feel bad," she said sardonically.

He stroked her cheek. Her skin was cold despite the sweat. "Severus will find a Healer for you. But I thought I would go to the library and look at the books you were last using. Could you tell me where they are?"

She sighed. "I keep notes on everything I read. Every time I have finished a book, I write down the date and title. It should be there somewhere."

"You are such a wonderful pedant researcher," he said with a smirk. "Call for Lolly if you need anything to eat. I'll be back later."

She just nodded and closed her eyes. Voldemort watched her a moment before he got up. He truly was worried for her. How could she get so sick so fast? Determined to find the answers, both for her sake and for his, he went to the library. This would be a long night.


	19. Chapter 19

Hello everyone! Lady-Gizzy have worked very fast with this one so I'm able to update today! Whiii! And some small things I want you to consider; I'm 19 and I have never had a child. I have talked to people who have had children and I have read a lot of information from hospitals, but mostly, I'm just guessing how Hermione's condition is and... well, I have tried to make it as believable as I can so don't bite my head off! Perhaps it's different for witches?

By the way, in this chapter, Hermione are able to hurt Voldemort because she doesn't think it will hurt as much as it does... Hihi... Take care and if I don't have time to update before Christmas, have a merry Christmas/yule/Hanukkah or whatever you are celebrating. And if you aren't celebrating anything, just have a nice week!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 19

Hermione was well aware of her surroundings, even if she was pretending to be asleep. It was the middle of the night and her fever was rising again. She knew Voldemort didn't like it when she touched him, however, now she needed his body heat. He was lying on his side with his face in her direction. She crawled closer to him and put her ice cold nose against his chest. He mumbled something, but didn't wake. She put an arm over his waist and pressed herself against his body. That made him wake up.

"What are you doing?" he mumbled.

She didn't answer. Her eyes were closed. She could hear him sigh as he rearranges his body parts. His arms came around her and he placed his hand at her neck, making her bend her head a little so her nose wasn't in contact with his body.

"You'll pay for this," he said with a yawn and fell asleep again. Hermione did the same. She didn't care what he would do. She just wanted some comfort.

xxx

In the morning, Voldemort was gone. Professor Snape and another man were standing next to her bed instead. Her eyes widened and she pulled her blanket closer around her body.

"Who are you?" she asked hoarsely.

The unknown man smiled a toothless smile. He seemed ancient and not very healthy. His head was bald with a thick grey beard. She thought he looked like an evil wizard from one of her old fairytale books.

"Don't worry, Mrs Riddle," Snape said in a boring voice. "We are already done with the examination. I'll brew a potion for you and Mr Boham here will speak to your husband."

"What? You did an examination while I was asleep?" she asked, a bit horrified.

"Yes," the old man said in a low hoarse voice. "The Dark Lord is a lucky wizard."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she was about to retort when her head began to spin as it had done for the last couple of days. "What is wrong with me, then?"

"We think that you have been reading the wrong books, Mrs Riddle. Or at least one too many. The last book you read contained a strong toxic curse which has been infecting your blood stream. Your body started the labour earlier so it would have more power to fight the curse off. Lucky for you, the Healers at St Mungos managed to remove the curse from your body. Although I'm afraid the damage was already done. What you need is to heal your blood stream," the old man said with an unpleasant smile. Hermione didn't like him one bit.

"I thought they did a Cleansing at St. Mungos?" She didn't know much about healing and now it really annoyed her.

"They did and it removed the active curse, not the damages. Once your husband comes back, we will inject a healing potion into your veins. When we have done that, your fever will either raise or sink a lot since your blood won't be able to control your temperature. You may black out for a minute, and you will probably feel quite sick. Once it is over, you'll feel better."

Hermione looked from Snape to the Healer (if he really was a Healer), but before she had time to say anything, Voldemort entered.

"Shall we begin?" he asked.

The other two nodded and Hermione's eyes widened. "How long will it take?"

"A couple of minutes, it depends on how good a heart you have." The Healer took up a needle and a tube and handed it to Snape. Snape filled the tube with some greenish potion and gave it back to the Healer. Hermione closed her eyes as they took her arm. She wasn't afraid of needles, but she didn't like them. There was a small sting and then… Hermione moaned when it felt as if her heart had started to race. Her head was spinning even if she closed her eyes. She felt extremely cold and then extremely hot. She cried out.

Then it was all over. She opened her watery eyes and looked up at the three men. Snape seemed uncomfortable, the old man was smiling and Voldemort was pinching the area between his eyes.

"Leave," he ordered the other two.

Hermione looked at him, confused. She was feeling much better already. Why did he seem to be so annoyed?

The two men left and Voldemort pulled down her blanket with a grimace. "Let's get you to the shower…"

Then, she noticed that she was wet on her legs and arse. There was a funny smell…

She groaned. "Don't tell me that I wet myself?"

"Fine," he mumbled and dragged her into the bathroom. "Let's pretend it never happened…"

Hermione groaned again as Voldemort turned on the sprinkles. "I did…"

"Do you think you can wash yourself?" he asked. Now she noticed that he seemed to be very uncomfortable too.

"Yes. What's wrong with you? I'm the one who peed in the bed. but it was during a special procedure so…"

He just shook his head. "We won't talk about it. Just shower and I will… make sure some elf takes care of the bed."

Hermione stared at him. "So… you don't like pee?"

He scowled and left the bathroom. Hermione smirked at the closed door. It was nice to know that Voldemort wasn't above all things human. He didn't like pee in the bed. It was a very… normal thing not to like.

After half an hour, she was done and felt very tired again. Not sleepy, just tired. She went out to their room and saw that Voldemort had ordered some lunch for them. He was currently feeding their son with a bottle. Hermione couldn't resist smiling as she sank down on the couch next to him. He just seemed so normal (despite the red eyes).

She took a slice of bread and some ham and slowly chewed it. It was annoying that you could be so worn out by just taking a shower. Not that it was strange; she had just given birth and been quite sick. Still… now when she was feeling better she wanted to get back on track again.

"You are quite good at that," she remarked when she had eaten the first sandwich.

"I'm just doing it until you can start to give milk," he answered shortly.

Hermione touched her breast with her hand. It felt quite… achy. Not like it wanted to produce milk, though. She sighed and drank some tea from her blue cup. After seven months of marriage, she had her own cup. The House-Elves always gave her the same blue cup. Voldemort used a plain white one.

After a couple of silent minutes, Voldemort put the child over his shoulder and started to eat some tuna salad. He noticed she was looking at him. "What?"

She smiled. "I would just never have guessed that you were such a natural with children."

"Not children. Child. My child. I'm good with my child. And I'm good at everything if I find a purpose for doing it."

Her smile faded. "Yes, about that… I won't let you use our child."

He arched an eyebrow. "You don't have a choice."

"It's my son!"

"Well, you are mine as well… so everything you have, I have." He removed the child from his shoulder and wiped the spit away from the baby's mouth.

"And you are mine!" she hissed. "I have everything you have as well!"

He shook his head with a small smile on his face. "You are naïve, Hermione. You don't have any power over me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Haven't I? I could feed you false information about the Cups. I could pass on information about you to your enemies. I could help the Death Eaters overthrow you! And you can't do anything to stop me, because then you would have to make me stay in our room all day… and then you would get a headache."

He simply blinked. "Do you honestly think that I haven't considered this before? Sure, you could feed me false information, that's why I double check everything you say. What information could you pass on to my enemies that could be dangerous to me? That I snore? How long my cock is? And before you try to get my Death Eaters to rebel against me, let me remained you that you are just a Mudblood. The only reason they don't torture and kill you right now is because I have told them not to."

Hermione pressed her lips tightly together. "I'm getting very tired of your misapprehension that I'm stupid and lame."

"I don't think you are stupid. Quite the opposite. That's why I let you do my research," he said serenely.

"I mean when it comes to manipulation!" She snarled and flew up. "I do know more about you than how long your cock is!"

"Really?" he said mockingly. "Like what?"

"I won't tell you! I will use it against you!" She stalked off to the fireplace and threw in some Floo powder.

Before she could pass through, she was pressed up against the wall, face first. Her husband held her wrists in a tight grip over her head as he pressed his body against hers.

"Don't play with me, Hermione," he murmured softly into her ear. "I have been very nice toward you. You don't want that to change."

"You can't harm me!" she spat back.

He chuckled and it sent shivers down her spine. "Not physically, no… but we both now how responsive you are to mental torture. Now when my son is born, I don't have to be so careful…"

She could feel his heart beat against her back, and also his hardness against her arse. "I hope you are not hoping for a fuck up against the wall."

"What if I were?" he purred.

"I have just given birth, you idiot," she hissed. "Even with magic, I have to wait a couple of months before I can have sex again. My vagina has to heal and then some women get too dry to have sex when they breastfeed!"

He was quiet, but didn't let you of her. "Well… there are other… options."

"Don't even think about it!" she said and started to struggle.

He chuckled and finally let go of her. She turned around and glared at him. He stared at her with such hot eyes that it almost made her blush. Was he going to kiss her? She wouldn't mind if he did… for someone who didn't normally kiss, he was very good at it. She could feel her anger disappear.

His hand came up in her hair and she closed her eyes. She could feel him lean closer against her. She could feel his breath on her lips…

"We have to do something about your hair."

She opened her eyes. His face was half an inch away from hers. He was smiling. She kneed him in his groin and then moaned when her head started to throb. Voldemort had sunk down on his knees and was groaning. She could feel a pang of triumph run through her.

"Fucking Mudblood slut," he hissed.

"Blame yourself," she retorted, went over to the fireplace threw in some Floo-powder again. "If you only could be a little nicer…" With her nose in the air, she stepped through.

A moment later she was in the library. She didn't go to her normal section; instead she went to the small area which held fictional books. Some of them Muggle. She didn't know why Voldemort had Muggle literature in his library, although she guessed he had got it sometime and now didn't have the heart to throw them away. She had noticed that if there was anything Voldemort loved, it was books.

She took a silly romance novel and went to her favourite armchair. She felt that she could need some romance in her life right now.

xxx

Voldemort didn't speak with her for almost two weeks. Hermione only saw him once, but he gave her such a cold look that almost scared her from ever talking to him again. She got the feeling she had hurt more than his genitals when she kneed him. The thought made her smug. He would probably try to get some vengeance done. She didn't care. There was always something he didn't like about her behaviour and she was certain he liked to punish her.

She spent most of her time in the library with her son and Besch, quickly recovering. Her son was still too young to understand anything, although it didn't seem to bother Besch. Hermione could hear the serpent talking to the baby while she was reading. Hermione knew the serpent would never harm the boy, and she thought they looked quite cure together. She often found the boy with Besch's tail in his hand while he was asleep. Almost like the serpent was a teddy bear.

However, since Voldemort didn't talk to her and she wasn't sick anymore, she found herself very bored. Thankfully, Reya Radcliff showed up one evening. Voldemort had, through Snape, ordered her to mark all dangerous books in the library so Hermione wouldn't get sick again. Hermione was surprised, but grateful for the company.

"Do you know there is a snake in your baby's crib?" Reya once asked.

Hermione, who had been doing some sit-ups on the floor, looked up. "Ah, yes. Well, he is his father's son after all."

Reya smiled at that and went to sit next to Hermione on the floor. "Why are you doing that?"

"You mean sit-ups? I want to get back on track. The stomach doesn't look so nice after given birth to a child. Thankfully, I don't have any big stretch marks. It's the only good thing with giving birth at a young age, it's easier for the body to regain its former glory," Hermione said with a sneer.

Reya leaned back against the wall. "You don't strike me as shallow."

Hermione sighed. "It's not because of shallowness. I want to be able to deal with my husband. He works out all the time and I don't…" She shivered when she thought about all those times he had restrained her against the wall, bed, floor or any other place he saw suitable.

"I see," Reya said with sympathy. "I guess it's no use to try to manipulate him either."

Hermione shook her head and then stretched. "He already knows all the tricks in the book."

"Have you tried to manipulate his emotions?" Reya asked in a low voice.

Hermione looked at Besch, but she didn't seem to hear what they were talking about. "How do you mean?"

Reya leaned closer. "Well, if there is one thing I have learned about Death Eaters, it is that they are very jealous. You should have seen the look on Lucius face when I told him I was with Severus now." They had already talked about Reya's insane love for the Potions Master. Hermione didn't understand how anyone could love the snarky git, but Reya was just weird that way.

"I guess he wasn't happy?" Hermione said with a small smile.

Reya shook her head. "He attacked me. but Severus was there and he used the Cruciatus on him." Reya got one of those happily-in-love looks again. Most of the time, Hermione wondered what such a nice woman like Reya was doing among the Death Eaters, but then she would always say or do something that made Hermione question her sanity. Like thinking that torturing someone was an act of love.

Despite that, Hermione spent much time with the strange red haired woman during the next two weeks. It was during on of their talks Voldemort finally started to talk with her again.

Hermione and Reya were sitting in library talking about sex. Reya did her best to make Hermione blush while she told her about her latest night with Snape. Perhaps Hermione had been spending too much time with Voldemort, but she didn't blush.

"… and then he crept up on me while I was in the shower," Reya told her with a devilish smile. "Next think I know I'm on the floor with his cock…" The werewolf froze and a small blush finally found its way up her cheek.

Hermione turned around and saw her husband standing there with a raised eyebrow.

"If I knew what kind of subjects you talked about, I would have recorded your conversations a long time ago," Voldemort said and came up to them. He placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "What a pity that I can't stay and enjoy them… Or you."

Reya was looking down at her hands. Hermione felt both sorry and angry for the other woman. Voldemort was such a prick. She stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow, Reya."

The other woman simply nodded before she hurried away. Hermione sighed, then turned to her husband and glared at him. "That wasn't nice!"

He looked back. "I'm not nice."

"What has Reya ever done to you?" she demanded.

"Well, she is distracting one of my most useful spies." He smiled cruelly.

"She is in love with him!" Hermione declared angrily. "And you are married, you shouldn't go and… and… indicate things like that!"

He seemed amused. "Jealous, are we?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I just don't think it's… appropriate. Especially not when your wife sits right next to you!"

"You mean the same wife who did her best to make sure I would never conceive again?"

"What do you…? Oh…" She bit her lip and remembered when she had kneed him.

He huffed. "Well, no harm done. We'll see if we can say the same thing about you after the day is over." He smiled an unpleasant smile before he turned around to leave. "Martial Arts in the Discipline Room in half an hour. Be there. Appropriately dressed."

Hermione watched him as he Flooed to the "Discipline Room". For a moment she thought about disobeying him. Although, she was curious to see what it was. And Voldemort always got so angry when she disobeyed him.

Sighing, she took up her son and Besch from the crib next to the big window and took the Floo back to their room. Voldemort had already laid out a training outfit on the bed. She quickly put it on and then went to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later she Flooed to the Discipline Room. Lolly would take care of the baby and Hermione didn't think she would need her serpent guardian.

When Hermione stepped into the room, the first thing she noticed was the cold. It couldn't be more than sixty degrees Fahrenheit. It was a big square room with mirrors on the long walls and different gymnastic things and weapons on the short walls. The floor was made of some dark wood and the only light came from the windows which were sitting high up on the walls. It looked a little like a PE classroom she had had in her first Muggle school. but it wasn't children playing in here. It was filled with Death Eaters. Most of them were doing some sort of personal exercise, but two different couples were fighting. One with wands and the other one hand-to-hand. She recognised a few of her Death Eaters from Lucius party, even if she didn't know their names.

Voldemort came up to her and eyed her from head to toe. "Good. Warm up, I want to see how you are in combat." He was about to leave but then hesitated. He lifted his wand and cast a spell over her. "There… now all your internal organs are protected for the next hour." He left.

Hermione stared after him. She was sure he was serious but… she hadn't been in a fight for months! And even if she was recovered from giving birth and being sick, she hadn't began to train for combat. Voldemort knew that! Prick.

She looked at the Death Eaters. Some of them had begun to throw punches at each other. Very few of them were smaller than she. She sighed and began to jog around, looking at everything in the room. It only took her a couple of minutes to get warm enough. She stopped and worked through the body with different stretching exercises so she wouldn't hurt herself once she started to fight. Even if Voldemort had put a protective shield around her internal organs, she was sure she would get a lot of bruises. He probably wanted to humiliate her.

He came over to her again. This time he was holding two knives in his hands. Her knives. The ones she had got from Remus and Lucius had taken from her when she first came here. She took them and felt their weight in her hands.

"You'll go a fight against Antonin," Voldemort said and led her through the room. "The first to draw blood wins."

Wait? Draw blood? She looked up and saw Dolohov standing in the middle of the room. Hermione couldn't help but to feel nervous. The dark man looked so… confident. Hermione took a deep breath and stopped a couple of yards away from him. He only had one knife in his hand. Well, that was a relief. As long as she could block it, she would be okay.

"Begin!" Voldemort said in a loud voice.

Hermione felt her heartbeat increase. She slowly started to walk around her opponent. He did the same. Everyone else had stopped with their training in favour of watching theirs. Hermione didn't care; she concentrated on the man in front of her. With the knives in her hands, she felt her body wake up. She knew the movements. He made a fake attack, she didn't move. Remus had taught her everything about fake attacks. It was a way to scare the opponent. She wouldn't show her fear.

Dolohov did two more fake attacks before he attacked her for real. She blocked him and danced away. She could see the surprise in his eyes. Her confidence rose. She could do this. He made another attack, she blocked and attacked him with her other knife. This time, he danced away.

For the next ten minutes, they gave each other a couple of bruises, but nothing more. Unfortunately, Hermione began to feel tired. It was very tiring to fight and Hermione wasn't in the best of condition. Dolohov was sweaty, although he didn't seem to be tired. He made a final attack. Hermione lifted her arm to block, but he changed his attack and made her drop the knife instead. She winced when the handle of his knife hit her fingers. She pulled out her other knife, but he grabbed her hand and tripped her. With a huff, she fell down with him on top of her. She dropped her other knife and he placed his against her throat. Hermione sighed. He had defeated her. However, instead of get off her, he smirked. Hermione's eyes narrowed. He had won, why didn't he move?

Her answer came when Voldemort stepped up to them. "I believe I said that you would fight until blood was drawn."

Dolohov smiled. Hermione tried to knock his knife out of his hand, but he took them and nailed them to the floor before he put his knife against her collar. With a fast cut, he had destroyed her jumper to make a small blood trail from her collar and down to her navel. She gasped and closed her eyes. The other Death Eaters were laughing. She could feel her jumper begin to slide down on her left. She prayed that she wouldn't show them her breast. Wasn't it bad enough that she had lost?

No one answered her prayer. Voldemort had begun to talk about the importance of a disciplined body as well as mind when she felt how Dolohov brushed her ripped jumper away. She opened her eyes to see Dolohov stare down on her small breasts with a smile. He let go of her hands in favour of her breasts, but before he had time to touch her, she let out a growl and her hands came around his neck.

Dolohov tried to get up, however, she didn't let go of him. Not until someone ripped him out of her grip.

"They are not for you to touch!" Voldemort growled at his Death Eater and ripped Hermione up from the floor. He pressed her naked front against him. "The same goes for the rest of you."

Hermione was quite surprised over her husband's outburst, she turned her head just in time to see Dolohov bow and apologise. Voldemort dismissed them all. They quickly disappeared. When they were alone, he took a step back, but held his hands on her shoulder.

"You were better than I thought," he said after a moment of silence.

She snorted. "You always seem to underestimate me."

He gave her a half smile and let one of his hands sink down to her half exposed flesh. His thumb came in contact with her areola. It circled her nipple. She shuddered at the intimacy.

"Hm…," he said. "You are leaking."

She looked down. "What?"

He removed his thumb and licked it. "Oh..."

"What?" Hermione touched her own breast and found that it indeed was something wet on it.

"Milk," he said with a smile. "Finally."

Hermione's eyes widened. "but… How…?"

He led her toward the fire. "It is about time! I want my son healthy and the mother's milk is very important!" He threw some Floo powder into the fireplace and sent her through it, following a moment later.

Lolly stood when she saw them. She gave the boy to Hermione before she bowed and disappeared in that special way House-Elves do.

Voldemort made her sit down on the couch. "What are you waiting for? Feed him!"

Hermione stared at him, but shrugged off her ripped jumper and placed her son against her chest. A minute or two later, the boy reached for her breast. She helped him get his mouth there and a moment later he was sucking. Quite hard. She winced.

"What?" Voldemort asked. He was sitting on the table across of her.

"Well, it hurts a bit," she said.

"You'll get used to it," he said simply and looked down at his son with a thoughtful look. They were quiet for a while.

"What does it taste like?" Voldemort finally asked.

Hermione frowned. "How should I know that? I haven't drunk any in nineteen years!"

"Oh."

They were quiet again. Hermione debated with herself if she should pick up the news paper which was lying next to Voldemort. He was just staring at them. Why was he staring like that?

Before she had the time to decide, her son let go of her and let out a small burp. Hermione frowned. "Are you already done? I can feel that I have milk left!"

Voldemort took their son. Then he glanced at her breast. Then at their son again. "Perhaps he doesn't drink everything."

"but this breast is still full," she said and made a gesture over her left breast.

Voldemort seem thoughtful again. "Well, we can't have that…"

"What…?" She was interrupted when he nailed her down on the couch. "Voldemort!"

His lips closed around her other breast and she could feel how he sucked. It didn't feel like when their son had done it… This felt much weirder. Thankfully, he let go of her after just a moment.

"Sweet," he said and licked his lips. "Very sweet and warm. Better than your cunt."

Hermione rolled her eyes. He chuckled and took up their son and threw him over his shoulder. "You should take a shower."

Hermione nodded and quickly hurried away to the bathroom. Merlin, that man had no shame at all!


	20. Chapter 20

Hi there! A new and quite long chapter coming up! Beware of the lemons! Although, I have removed some of the parts and those of you who are over the age of 18 can read the uncensored chapter on adultfanfiction.

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Chapter 20

Time went by quickly when you had a newborn infant to take care of. And sometimes it felt like she had two. Voldemort became cranky when he didn't get to sleep, but he wouldn't let Hermione take the baby and sleep in the guestroom. When she asked why, he just muttered something about a cold bed.

When she didn't take care of her cranky boys, she was either in the library or in the Discipline Room. The other Death Eaters always left her alone. When she was in the library, Reya could sneak in and they would talk for a couple of hours. Reya even took her on a shopping trip in the wizarding of Paris. They had a very pleasant time and the other woman made Hermione buy some sexy nighties and underwear. Voldemort allowed her wear underwear again… at least those he found "tasteful". They had argued about it and when she told him that she was still bleeding from the delivery and would be bleeding until her vagina was healed, he allowed her to wear knickers. Apparently, he wasn't fond of blood in the bed.

Another thing they were constantly arguing about was the name of their son. Voldemort wanted to name him after Salazar Slytherin. Hermione put her foot down (on his foot) and told him that she would never call her son Salazar. So it would probably be the baby's middle name.

At the beginning of March, the weather became warmer and sunnier. Hermione was declared completely recovered by a new healer and wanted to celebrate it. She decided to take Besch and her unnamed son for a trip to Diagon Alley. In several books, she had run across the same reference and she didn't know what the book was about. She decided to take some money out from hers and Voldemort's account and try to find it.

She put a glamour over herself, hid Besch under her robe and Apparated. When she entered the Alley, no one looked at her twice. If they did, they only looked at her son. Excellent.

It had been a long time since she was out on her own. She walked slowly and looked at everything in the windows. A new children's store named i_The__ little wizard/i_was open and Hermione decided that it couldn't hurt to look. The boy didn't have any toys at all. He was very contained with just Besch, however, Hermione felt like she could at least buy him some new more colourful clothes. For some reason, Voldemort only bought black.

When she was done buying clothes, she went straight to the book shop and asked for the books; i_Evolutionary discoveries; Agriculture – the birth of wizards?, Neolithic pottery/i _and i_Prehistoric Magic/i. _It was the last one she had found most references too. but the other two had seemed very interesting as well.

The owner of the book store could give her the first book and suggested she should try to find the other two in an antique store. Hermione thanked him for the information and went to the only antique store in Diagon Alley. It was a small shop filled with narrow passages between the shelves. Hermione had been there many times before; she liked the smell of old books. It was quite dim in the store and it took some time before her eyes adjusted. When they did, she went straight to the historical section.

"Excuse me…," someone behind her said.

Hermione jumped and quickly walked out from the very slim passage to let the other person enter. She was very surprised when she saw that the person was Minerva McGonagall. She looked like always with a long midnight blue robe and her hair held in a tight bun near her neck. She was holding a couple of books in her arms.

"Professor," she said with a smile.

McGonagall looked at her with a frown. "Sorry, do I know you?"

"Oh, right…" Hermione had forgotten about the glamour. She waved her wand and it faded.

McGonagall's eyes widened. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione smiled sadly. "It's Mrs Riddle now."

McGonagall sighed. "Yes, of course. I presume that is your son?"

Hermione nodded and patted her son's head. "We haven't agreed on a name yet. but yes. He came early."

"Oh, I see," McGonagall seemed a bit uncomfortable. "Well, of course they can do that. Although the rumours…"

"What rumours?" Hermione asked, surprised and a bit curious. Of course there would always be rumours.

"Dumbledore has told us that none of it is true. However, some people will always be inquisitive…"

Now Hermione frowned. "What rumours?"

The old teacher sighed. "Some people… believe that you have been You-Know-Who's lover for a long time. And that he only married you because you became pregnant. Of course it's just nonsense. For that, You-Know-How would require a heart and Merlin knows he hasn't got one."

"Oh… Where did you hear that?" Hermione felt a bit hurt. McGonagall didn't say anything about that it was nonsense because Hermione would never do something like that. Did McGonagall really believe Hermione liked being married to Voldemort?

"Like I said, it's a rumour; it could come from anyone."

Anyone. Like from Voldemort himself. She wouldn't put it past him to do something like that. Everything to put him in a good light.

"It was nice to meet you, Professor," Hermione heard herself saying. "I'll go now."

She didn't give McGonagall any chance to explain, she hurried away with tears in her eyes. How could people believe that about her? People like McGonagall who had known her for seven years! Why hadn't Remus said anything? Of course… Remus would never want to hurt her.

It took her a couple of minutes before she realised people were now looking at her. She looked up and saw a mother pull her child closer to her and hurry away. Hermione frowned, then she realised she hadn't put on her glamour again. Damn. And she hadn't got the book she wanted either.

She kept walking and after a while, she found herself right next to Knockturn Alley. She stopped. There were bookstores there… and the people in there wouldn't care about her. Deciding that it couldn't hurt, she went into the alley.

It was dark and gloomy, just like she had been told, but it wasn't really scary. Not after she had lived with Voldemort. People didn't meet her eyes here. She walked faster. After a moment, she saw an old gloomy bookstore. She went inside and was met with a very foul smell. However, the place had books at every shelf along the wall. It was only one room, with a small desk in front of a door. Hermione wordlessly cast a protective shield around herself and the baby. You could never be too secured.

To her great surprise, she almost immediately found the last book on her list. The one about prehistoric magic. She cast a spell to check for any Dark Magic around the book. There was a lot Dark Magic in the store, although the book didn't seem to be that bad. However, she didn't touch the book. She levitated it to the desk and then rang the small bell. A moment later, an old hag appeared through the door. She had long wild grown black hair and no teeth. Her nose seemed to have been broken a lot of times and she had a black patch over her left eye. She smiled unfriendly at Hermione.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Dark Lady," he voice was dark and more powerful than Hermione had expected.

"I'm not a Dark Lady," Hermione said coldly. "I just wish to buy that book."

The hag tilted her head. "You will be, girl. Mark my words." Then she wrapped the book in old newspaper and handed it to Hermione. Hermione just gave her the money (120 galleons for an old book!) and left the store.

She was about to Apparate from the alley when she heard someone call her name. She turned to her right and saw a familiar face. It was Max Lestrange who had introduced himself after Narcissa threatened her on the ball. He came up to her.

"Hi!" he said with a smile. "What is a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Hermione smiled back. "Buying a book. And you?"

"Hoping to run into pretty ladies," he said with a smile. "May I buy you some coffee? Or tea?"

Hermione thought about it. "Tea sounds lovely. Not here, right?"

He laughed. "Not unless we want to get poisoned."

"Then I'm all for it. Just one moment." Hermione put the glamour back on again. "So, there."

He looked at her. "Why did you do that?"

She shrugged. "People were looking at me funny earlier."

"Oh, well, you have been in the newspaper often lately. Some woman named Skeeter wrote a nasty article after you had given birth."

Hermione frowned as they began to walk back to the Diagon Alley. "Nasty how?"

"Some bullshit about The Dark Lady. My father and his friends had a few laughs at it. I know none off it is true," he quickly assured her when he saw her frown. "I saw how they acted around you at the Malfoy's. And I saw how you acted…"

"Oh, did you?" Hermione couldn't help but to say.

He grinned. "Yeah, I always look at the pretty ladies. Too bad you were already taken."

Hermione couldn't help but to blush a little. She wondered if he spoke the truth, or if he was just teasing.

He took her to i_Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour/i_ and ordered for them two big cups of lemon tea and chocolate ice-cream.

"I assume you are like other girls and like chocolate best?" he asked and winked.

She just laughed and nodded. "So, what are you doing? Are you working or…?"

He shrugged. "I'm doing a little of this and that. This month, I have been helping out in my friends' store. They are the best. Most times when I look for job, they just take a look at my full name and say that they have already found someone." He sighed and played with the ice-scream with his spoon. "What have you been doing?"

Hermione made a gesture over her baby. "Giving birth and taking care of him. It's a full time job. Especially when the father gets cranky when he doesn't get his beauty sleep."

"Oh, so that's why my father complains over the Dark Lord's temper! He came home a week ago with his back bloody…"

Hermione almost chocked on her ice-cream. "I… I didn't think about that…"

Max waved his hand. "Don't think about it, I know some healing and he was better just a couple of hours later."

Hermione still felt a bit uncomfortable. If Voldemort was torturing his Death Eaters, he was more than likely torturing his prisoners as well… and that meant Harry. He had said that he would let Harry go once she did that interview, but she didn't know when that would be.

"Hey, here come my employers!" Max stood up and waved at someone. "Oi! Fred, George!"

Hermione turned around when she heard the names. It took her a moment to see the familiar red hair and the identical smiles. She couldn't help but to smile back. Then she remembered that they wouldn't recognise her.

"There you are," Fred (she knew it was Fred because he had a nametag on his red jacket) said. "We were wondering why it took you so long."

"No you weren't," Max snorted. "You just wanted to sneak out and eat some ice-cream."

"Oh, no, he caught us!" George said with a sigh and sank down on the chair next to Hermione. "Well, hello, and who may you be?"

Hermione smirked. "I hope you are talking to my son, because you already know me."

George seemed confused for a moment. He looked from Max, to the baby and up to her. Then it seemed to click. "Hermione?"

She nodded with a smile.

"Why are you looking like that?" he wondered.

"Apparently, I'm now known as the Dark Lady, and people like to stare at me," Hermione said, annoyed.

"Ah, that," Fred now joined the conversation. "Mum is quite hysterical about it. but now we know why you disappeared to 'the library' so often. You were having a secret affair!"

"I did not!" Hermione said in a fake-acid voice. She knew they were just kidding with her.

The twins laughed. "That's what we have tried to tell mum, but you know her; she believes everything Skeeter writes."

Hermione sighed. "I guess Skeeter wet her pants in excitement when she heard whom I was married too. She has wanted to get back on me for ages."

"True, true," the twins said with a serious tone.

Hermione suddenly felt something move under her jumper. Besch. The serpent crawled up to her neckline and hissed. "i_Your precious wants you/i._"

"He is not my precious," Hermione whispered back. She was still able to understand Parsel, but she didn't think she would ever be able to speak it.

"Did you say something, Hermione?" George asked.

"What? Oh, yes, I have to go. It was nice you see you," she stood up and took her bags.

"Already?" Max asked, disappointed.

"Yes, sorry. If you want, you can ask your father to take you to the Discipline Room. I'm there almost every day," she said and made sure she didn't forget anything.

Max smiled. "I will."

"May we come?" Fred asked.

Hermione shook her head with a smile. "Well, I guess my husband would be more than happy, but I wouldn't advise it."

"Oh."

"Bye!" she said and left them. When she came out to the street, she Apparated away.

Voldemort was waiting for her at the Apparation point. "Where have you been? Why do you look like that?"

"If you have to know, I have been in Diagon Alley. And people stare if I look like myself. You wouldn't know why they think I'm the Dark Lady?" she asked, a bit angry.

Lucky for him, he seemed very surprised. "The Dark Lady? They actually call you that? I read the article, but I didn't think anyone would be so stupid…"

"Apparently, they are," she hissed and started to walk.

He stopped her by gripping her wrist. "Who told you this?"

"Well, first I ran into McGonagall and she seemed very uncomfortable. Then I ran into Max and he told me about the article," she explained and tried to take back her wrist.

"Max?" he asked and kept her still.

"Lestrange," she said and managed to puller her wrist away.

"Max… Oh, Maximillius." He took her bags from her and quickly looked at the content. When he didn't see anything that could be dangerous, he transported them to their room. At the same time, their son started to whine.

"I think he is hungry," Hermione said and started to loosen the carrying bag from her stomach.

Voldemort stopped her. "You'll have to wait, take off the glamour first."

Frowning, she did. He just looked at her for a moment. Then his hand came up in her frizzy hair. "A hair-dresser is waiting for you in a small office. You can feed him while she fixes your hair."

"But I like my hair," she complained.

"No, you don't. I hear how you curse every time you get out from the shower." He took her wrist again and led her down a corridor. They didn't walk far until he stopped again. He turned to look at her.

"What?" she asked, still wondering how he knew that she used to curse over her hair. He was never in the shower with her.

To her great surprised, he leaned down and kissed her. Hard. Hermione gasped and he stuck his tongue inside her mouth. She sighed and responded to the kiss. He hadn't kissed her since that night in the hospital.

His hands were on her back, pressing her harder against him. He nibbled her lip with his teeth, almost sucking on it. She let out a small moan and her hand came up behind his ear. She could feel him shudder as she caressed his head.

They were interrupted by as scream from the baby between them. Voldemort sighed and pulled away. Hermione could still feel his lips on him. She didn't open her eyes.

"We have to go," he mumbled and took her hand again, but this time, he twinned his finger between hers. She opened her eyes as they began to walk. She glanced down at their hands. Why was he acting so… husbandly?

The answer came when he opened the door into a small office. All the colours on her face disappeared when she recognised the older of the two women inside. She was wearing green half-moon glasses, her hair was blond and curly in a hip short cut and she wore a minimal green dress suit. She smiled sweetly at Hermione before she curtsied at Voldemort.

"I believe you already know Miss Skeeter, Hermione?" Voldemort asked and finally let go of her hand.

Skeeter's Quick-Quote Quill was already writing madly. Hermione couldn't help but to blush. She hid it by finally unfasten her son from her body. He was whining.

"Well, I'll let you three ladies be alone," Voldemort said and left with a chuckle.

Hermione tried to ignore Skeeter and her Quill, but it kept taking notes as she sat down at the conference table with her baby in her arms. She unfastened the front of her robes and let him find her breast. The hairdressed conjured up a mirror in front of Hermione and went to stand behind it. The room was small. It just contained the conference table in the middle of the room and a board hanging on one of the small walls. Skeeter came to sit next to Hermione.

When Hermione saw herself in the mirror, she mentally groaned. Now she knew why Voldemort kissed her. She looked like she just had the snog of her life. Her lips were red and a bit swollen, and her face a little flushed.

"I understand that I shall take away the curls, but what about the length?" the hair-dresser asked her. She was short and her hair was similar to Skeeter's. At least she seemed nice.

"Keep the length. Just take a little at the edges," Hermione said.

The short woman began to work and Skeeter leaned closer to Hermione.

"So, Hermione Riddle, nee Granger. I guess you know why I'm here?"

Hermione wanted to say that it was because Voldemort wanted to torture her, but she knew why she was here. She was here to tell everyone what a honey Voldemort was and get Harry free.

"Yes. Although, I don't understand why you have to be the one to do the interview," Hermione muttered.

The older woman laughed a high girlish laugh. "I begged for this job. To be the first to interview the Dark Lady…"

"I'm and not a Dark Lady!" Hermione said angrily.

"Really? What would you call yourself? The lover of the most powerful man alive? The Death Eater Queen?"

"I'm his wife, not his lover. And I'm not the queen over anything," Hermione said, trying not to scream.

"But you do have sex, right?"

Hermione looked at her like she was stupid. "The evidence sits right here." She pointed at her son who was still feeding from her breast.

Skeeter looked at him. "Yes of course. What is his name?"

"We haven't decided yet," Hermione mumbled, getting her anger under control.

"Really? Are there a lot of things you can't agree on?"

Hermione hesitated. If she said the truth, Voldemort would think she was trying to speak badly about him. "Not really. We like to have dynamic debates, but who doesn't?"

"Uhmhum," Skeeter just said and looked down at her paper. "How would you describe your husband?"

Hermione thought about it. "He is defiantly passionate… cunning and ambitious." At least she didn't lie.

"What do you not like about your husband?"

Hermione blinked. What i_did/i _she like about him? "Well… he got a bit of a temper."

"Has he ever made you angry?"

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "I'm a bit angry at him for hiring you."

Skeeter smirked and her Quill wrote furiously. "What plans do you have for the future?"

Hermione sighed. "I would like to buy a new house. Somewhere were we can be alone. Perhaps start to work once the baby is older."

"And your husband?"

"I'm not sure. He seems to do a million different things as once." Hermione glanced at the mirror again. The hair-dresser was clearly listening, because she was smiling all the time.

"How was your honeymoon?"

Hermione thought about it. They had been in Finland, he had been gone all the time and on their way home, she had had a mental breakdown. "Quite lovely. We went to Finland and spent most of our time in our room."

"Really?" Skeeter's quill almost burned whole in the parchment. Hermione made a grimace. Everyone would think she and Voldemort was some sort of sex-addicts.

Skeeter continued to question her about hers and Voldemort's life. Especially their love life. The only question Hermione didn't answer was if she loved him or not. She didn't love him, but if she said so, Skeeter would want to know why and it would be impossible for Hermione to put Voldemort in a good light. She needed to get Harry free.

"I'm done," the hairdresser said after almost an hour. The baby was sleeping on the table on a transfigured blanket. Hermione looked at herself in the mirror and made a half smile at her now very straight hair. It was nice, all right, but it didn't feel like her. It was just a pretty picture Voldemort wanted to put up.

"I think I have everything I need as well," Skeeter said as she leafed through her notes. "Yes. This will be published within a week. Have a nice day."

Both Skeeter and the hairdresser left with a small bow. Hermione sighed and looked back into the mirror. Some tears escaped her eyes. It wasn't like she didn't know what he was doing. He wanted more people to follow him, and he used her, the best friend of Harry Potter, a Muggle-born with superb school marks, to get it. She knew that the moment Skeeter published the interview, people would begin to wonder. Was Voldemort really such a bad wizard? Perhaps he had just done all those bad things because he was treated badly. Perhaps it was the societies fault. Perhaps it was time for a change…

She helped him. For what? To save one person's life. She tricked thousands just to save one persons life. Harry would hate her once he found out. Those who knew the truth would hate her for doing this. Everyone in the Order… Remus… would he understand why she did it? How she had to save one of the few friends she had left. Would he think she was selfish? Because she was. Very selfish.

Her mind full of angst, she took up her baby and went back to their room. Voldemort was there, pacing around the coffee table. When she entered, he stopped. He saw her distress and let out a sigh in relief. He understood that she had done everything he asked for.

"Come here," he said.

Numbly, she put the child in his bed and went over to her husband. He wrapped his arms around her and they sank down on the couch. She sat stiffly in his lap. He was stroking her back.

"When the interview is published, we will go away on a vacation to Brazil," he said softly.

"Vacation?" Could the Dark Lord just go on vacation like that?

"Well, we will be looking for more signs about the Cups, of course. It will be warm there. Summer. You could put on one of those small bathing suits and lie on the beach all day…"

"I'm not a beach-person," she said in a low voice.

"I didn't think you were," he admitted with a chuckle and his hand came up in her hair. "I truly like this."

She didn't answer. She closed her eyes and listened to his slow, steady heartbeats. Even if he had promised to tell her how he managed to get this body, they had never taken up the subject. Perhaps she was afraid of the answer.

"When will you let Harry go?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," he mumbled into her hair, then he withdrew. "Get up."

Hermione did. He looked up at her with a small smile. "Strip."

Hermione blinked. Had he just told her to…? She snapped out of her distress. "Why would I?"

He chuckled. "It was just a test, dear. You seemed so ready to obey that I just had to try."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You thought I was… You know what, fine. I'll give you a fucking little strip tease. You are not the only one who hears thing through the walls between our room and the bathroom. I have heard you masturbate in the shower." She kicked off her shoes and was now standing on the table, unbuttoning her robes by hand. "I bet you wake up every morning, wishing you could fuck me. But you can't. And you are too narrow minded to think of anything else than sticking your cock inside me. You don't consider that maybe I have needs too. Maybe you aren't the only one masturbating in the shower." She ripped off her robe and threw it on the floor. She wasn't wearing a bra, but she had a black pair of knickers on. "No, because then you would actually have to think about my feelings. And that is something you can't do. Can you?" She pulled her knickers down and threw them at him. "CAN YOU?"

During her whole little outbreak, he had simply stared at her speechless, but when he got her knickers in his lap he snapped out. He lifted the black piece of underwear and looked at it for a moment. Then he looked up at his angry wife again.

"You know I would lie if I told you I knew anything about feelings," he said in a low voice. "However, I do know a thing or two you could do in bed… besides penetrating a body part."

He rose and with a blink of an eye, he had thrown her over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Hermione screamed. "Let me down!"

"In a moment," he simply said and carried her over to the bed. He dropped her on it and quickly followed after he had disposed of his own robes with a flick of his wand. He was now sitting on top of her.

She looked up at him. "I didn't mean we should…"

He placed a hand over her mouth. "Don't back down now, girl. You want this."

She removed his hand. "Fine. But if you don't make this special, I'll never sleep with you again."

He chuckled. "Don't make threats you can't keep, dear. Soon enough you will be dripping for me again."

"You are so good at ruining moments," she muttered.

"So are you," he retorted and lay down next to her instead. "Now shut up, or I may decide that I want to see what happens if I penetrate your vagina."

They looked at each other for a while. His hand came to her elbow and he slowly moved his finger up her arm. She shuddered a little, then realised that this would be an excellent moment to get to know his body. She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him onto his back.

"I want to explore your body for a change," she mumbled and sat up, placing both her hands on his chest.

She could see his hesitation even if he nodded. She smiled and looked down at his chest and stomach. There was a small string of black hair. She followed it downwards with her fingertips. Then up again. His chest was hard. She doubted the man had any fat on his body. She flicked her fingertips over his nipples. He let out a small gasp. She did it again. Then she bent over and kissed them, one at a time.

He shuddered. "Hermione…"

"I wont harm you," she said when she heard his doubtful voice. "I can't harm you. Turn around."

He sighed, but smiled and then turned over so he was lying on his stomach. Hermione stared down at his back. It was smooth and pale… completely spotless, but too pale. If they went to Brazil like he said, she would make him stay on the beach as well. Get a tan. The thought made her chuckle.

"What?" he asked, annoyed.

"You could use a day or two on the beach as well," she said and drew her thumbs along his spine. "You could also use a massage."

He was quiet for a while. Hermione continued to feel small knots around his shoulder blades and down his spine. She wondered for a moment if he was in pain Ah, well, even if he was he was probably too disciplined to let himself feel such trivial things as pain.

"I have never had a massage," he said in a low voice.

"Never? Never ever?" she asked, suddenly realising how special this was. Perhaps she should have had that outbreak sooner.

"Never," he confirmed, a bit annoyed.

She placed the palms of her hands under his shoulder blades and began to draw small circles. "Do you want one now?"

"If you must…," he said in a bored voice, however Hermione could feel him tense. It made her feel special that she was the first one to give him a massage. Her mother had always told her how important it was with human contact and closeness. It was just as important as food, air and fire.

She started easy, just to make him relax. With her palms and thumbs she tried to feel were he had most muscle knots. It turned out that he had them around his neck. She used her three middle fingers to soften his neck up and then she used her thumb to put extra pressure right on the knot.

"Merlin, woman!" he hissed and tensed up. "You said you wouldn't hurt me!"

"Don't be such a wuss," she teased him. "It has to hurt before it can feel better."

He growled but started to relax again. "It feels like my neck is on fire."

"I know," she said with a smirk. The anger from before had vanished completely. She wondered if that had been his plan… then decided that it didn't matter. He was finally showing her some trust!

Was she a horrible person if she was thinking of ways to use it against him? No… not worse than him anyway.

She heard him let out a sigh when the knot in his neck started to disappear. When she couldn't feel it under her thumb anymore, she started to rub the spot. She found a dozen other spots, although, not as big as the one in his neck. The last one was on the left side of his bottom. He let out a small yelp when she found it.

"Do you sit with your legs crossed?" she asked.

"Sometimes," he muttered.

"It's not good for your back or legs," she said as she pressed harder on the knot.

"Then you must have knots as well," he said. "You are always sitting with your legs crossed."

"If you had let me wear knickers before, I wouldn't feel like I was showing the world my pussy every time I sat with my legs spread," she retorted.

He chuckled at that, then groaned when she put even more pressure on the knot. When it finally disappeared she asked him to turn over again. She discovered that he was already semi-erected. She arched an eyebrow and he gave her a naughty smile. Smiling back, she placed her hands on his knees and slowly dragged her fingertips upwards. His red eyes seemed to darken with lust as she came closer to his member. When her hand finally reached his balls, he let out a small moan.

"You know… you don't have to deep throat me," he mumbled.

She let go of him. "Voldemort…"

He sat up and placed her hand on him again. "I'm serious. It's not the biggest cock in the world. If you lick it first, you can use your mouth on the top and your hand on the base."

She slowly moved her hand over his cock. "Why do you want to get a blowjob so badly?"

He smiled and leaned closer towards her. "It's a man-thing. I promise I'll do the same on you."

She couldn't repress the shudder. "You do?"

He kissed her nose. "Yes…"

"O-okay," she said. "but if I don't like it, I'll stop."

He nodded and Hermione started to explore his gentiles with her tongue. He seemed to enjoy it, even if she found it quite boring. Neither was she so fond of the taste and she withdrew when he started to ejaculate. Although, seeing him with come all over his stomach made her smile. Even if she had been mad at him before, she guessed she could believe him. When he came down from his orgasm, she stroked his thigh.

"You know, you have made me quite angry today," she mumbled, deciding to get it out in the open before they continued.

"I have?" he asked, sounding surprised. However, he pulled her closer to him and started to kiss her neck.

"Rita Skeeter? You do know she has been my enemy since I was fourteen, right?"

"No, I didn't," he mumbled. His mouth was right under her ear. "Why?"

"She… oh, that feels nice… She wrote a horrible article about me being together with both Viktor Krum and Harry. She wrote that I was messing with their hearts."

"Were you?" He rearranged his limbs so she was sitting between his legs with her back against him.

"No! I was… something… with Viktor, but Harry and I have never been more than friends." He was very good with his tongue and hands and she felt herself grow hotter.

He chuckled against her throat. His right hand was playing with her pubic hair. "You seem to have a taste for famous men."

"No, famous men have a taste for me," she said with a smile.

He smirked against her throat and his right hand found its way between her nether lips. "I do hope that if another famous man shows you his interest, you will not be unfaithful."

"Not unless you give me a reason to be."

He withdrew his hand from her pussy. "What is that supposed to mean?"

She turned her head and smiled. "You'll see… if you make me angry enough."

She had got the idea when Reya had told her how jealous Death Eater was. Hermione was sure that she could, in theory, get Voldemort to kill one of his Death Eaters if she made it seem to be something more than it was.

Voldemort looked down at her for a moment, then he smiled. "How very Slytherin of you, giving me a warning when I'm too relaxed to become angry. You are learning."

He crawled down between her legs and started to lick her with passion. It didn't take long for Hermione to climax.

"When you feel that it's time to begin with real sex, tell me before so I have time to take a contraceptive potion," Voldemort said as he crawled up to her again. "I wouldn't want you to get pregnant again."

She smiled. "No, we wouldn't want that." She moved closer to him and buried her face in his chest. He smelled of sweat and sex. She found that she liked that smell.

"You like to cuddle," he noticed.

"Mm…" She had closed her eyes. He was slowly stroking her arm.

"Even if it is with me?"

"I didn't think you'd appreciate it if I cuddled with someone else," she mumbled.

He chuckled. "You could cuddle with a woman… you are heterosexual, right?"

"I think so. I can think other women are pretty, but I have never wanted to have sex with another woman. How about you?" she asked and realised that she had no idea if he was hetero or bisexual. She wouldn't be surprised over either answer.

"I don't know… I have only had sex with women. Although I have let a couple of my Death Eaters give me a blowjob, but I don't think that is sex. It's more like a reward. For them."

She snorted. "Why am I not surprised by your reasoning?"

He chuckled and rolled over to his back. Then he fell silent. "What time is it?"

"I have no idea," she mumbled and looked out through the window. It was already dark. "Six?"

He sat up and took his wand from the nightstand. Hermione watched as he naked walked over to his clothes. He pulled up a watch and cursed.

"I'm late for a meeting," he muttered and cleaned himself with his wand before he put on his robes. "I don't think it will take too long."

"Whom are you meeting?" she asked and sat up in the bed.

"Dumbledore," he said before he left the room.

Hermione stared after him. Voldemort and Dumbledore in the same room? Good Merlin, what was the world coming to?


	21. Chapter 21

Hello and Happy New Year! To celebrate this wonderful start of the year 2009, I have decided to post the longest chapter in this story! I really hope you'll like it and have a wonderful day!

And about the name of the baby; I know this name can be spelled in many different ways. My beta Lady-Gizzy and I thought this spelling would be best, just so you know!

Oh, and as a reader pointed out, yes, they do speak Portuguese in Brazil, however, I don't think Voldemort can speak all language in the world so he speaks Spanish instead. He is also rude enough to think that if people don't understand what he is saying, that is their own fault.

* * *

Chapter 21

Voldemort arrived at the small pub in the middle of a small town a couple of miles outside York. He was more than half an hour late… although he wouldn't apologize. If Dumbledore really wanted to speak with him, he would still be there.

It was a typical English Muggle pub. Most of the small tables were occupied by people who were gossiping about their day. Some were smoking, so Voldemort conjured up a small invisible bubble of clean air around him. Passive smoking was just as dangerous as active smoking. He refused to suffer due to other people's foolishness.

He spotted Dumbledore in one of the dark corners. He was drinking something as he bobbed his head to the music coming out from some Muggle machine. Voldemort sighed and went over to him.

"Ah, Tom," Dumbledore said as Voldemort pulled out a chair and sat down. If he hadn't just had sex, he would probably be angrier at Dumbledore's use of his birth name.

"Albus," Voldemort said and made sure he had his wand was within reach.

"I have to congratulate you to the fatherhood," Dumbledore said. "I understand it is a boy?"

Voldemort nodded. "We are very happy."

Dumbledore looked at him over his glasses. "I can imagine. You are very well preserved for a man your age, Tom."

"And you are very vigorous for a man of your age, Albus," Voldemort said, a bit annoyed. "Why have you called me here? I'm a very busy wizard."

Dumbledore gave him a knowing smile. Voldemort felt a sudden urge to straighten his hair and look into a mirror. He had cleaned himself however, hadn't the girl bitten him?

"At least I'm getting some," Voldemort said with a smile.

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes… that is one of the reasons why I have called you here today."

Voldemort arched his eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

Dumbledore straightened and continued. "But first; stop searching for the Cup, Tom. You have no idea what it can do."

Voldemort froze. How the hell could he know about them? Only he and Hermione… he blinked when he remembered what she had said "…_I could pass on information about you to your enemies…_". Although, he had wished her not to tell anyone about that. Not tell anyone directly anyway. He would have to kill her.

"I don't know what you are talking about," he lied.

Dumbledore sighed. "You won't get what you want from it, Tom. You would never be able to master it, even if you found it. It would be too dangerous…"

Voldemort was quiet. What did the old man know that he didn't? Why was he speaking of only one Cup? Helga Hufflepuff had used one of the Cups. Had the Founder left something at Hogwarts? Something that could tell him what the Cups did? Then he needed to break into Hogwarts.

"Your concern is touching, Albus," he sneered. "But unnecessary. I have always been able to take care of myself."

Dumbledore made a grimace. "Well, that can be disputed, but this is neither the place nor the time to do so."

Voldemort crossed his arms. "Anything else you have to say?"

"Ah, yes… I think I have found a way to break the Contract between you and your wife."

Voldemort blinked and unfolded his arms. "That's impossible!"

"On the contrary, I have several theory, and actual proof that one of them works. However, I want an oath that you won't hurt Hermione once the Contract is broken."

Ways to be free his Mudblood wife? His men worked on it for months until he finally asked them to do something more productive with their time. He hadn't thought so much about it since then. Hermione was now a part of his life. Even if he was going to hurt her for telling Dumbledore about the Cups. How the hell had she managed to do that?

"No," she finally said.

Dumbledore looked surprised. "No? I'm sorry Tom, but I won't tell you how to do it unless you give me an oath."

Voldemort got up. "It won't be necessary. I am not interested in breaking the Contract."

He didn't know why he was honest, but it was the truth. Hermione had turned out to be very useful… and entertaining. Besides, she was the mother of his child. After everything he had done, it would be strange if he divorced her. The press and his Death Eaters would ask questions.

"I… I don't understand…," Dumbledore said, looking shocked. "You wish to be married with her?"

"Yes." Voldemort said seriously. "She has grown on me. I don't even see her as a Mudblood any more."

Dumbledore frowned. Voldemort pushed back his chair and made ready to stand. "If that is all?"

"And Hermione wishes to stay married as well?" Dumbledore asked.

Voldemort paused. His hand came up to his lips where she had bitten him. "I'm certain she would miss me. Good night, Albus."

He left the pub. When he stepped out the door, he called some of his Death Eaters. They appeared moments later. "Dumbledore is in there. You know the reward if you get him."

Then he Apparated home. He had a wife to deal with.

He managed to work up quite a rage on his way between the Apparition-point and their bedroom. He was fuming when he opened the door. Hermione just came out from the bathroom with a towel around her hair and a bathrobe around her body. The smile on her face faded when she saw his angry glare.

"You…," he said and pointed at her as he started to go toward her. "You… ungrateful little slut."

She frowned and walked to behind the sofa. "Uh… I guess the meeting didn't go well?"

"Oh, it went very well," Voldemort said with a sneer. He could almost see himself strangling her. "Dumbledore had something very interesting to say…" He started to walk around the suite and she walked in the opposite position.

"He often does." She sounded a bit nervous.

"Yes. He said that I should stop looking for the Cups."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Yes, I was quite surprised myself… since the only two people who know about the Cup are you and I. And I haven't told anyone." He took some fast steps towards her, but she took some fast steps away from him.

"You must have told someone," she objected. "Don't you have people looking for it?"

"Oh, yes, I do. However, they don't know what it is they are looking for. Who did you tell? Or did you write him a letter? No wait… you gave those Weasleys some sort of cryptic message. Because you can't tell anyone directly…"

Hermione seem to think fast. "Well, what did you expect me to do? Just sit back and let you rule the world?"

He stopped for a moment. Why was she confessing already? Did she have something more to hide? Something she really didn't want him to know? He jumped over the couch and lurched for her. She ran away to the bed and jumped up on it.

"Whom did you tell?" he asked. "What did you say?"

"It doesn't matter," she hissed. "Dumbledore figured it out. He is going to stop you!"

He was standing next to the bed now. She seemed to be ready to jump off the bed if he tried to grab her.

"I have underestimated you, girl," he hissed. "It won't happen again."

"Haven't you said that sometime before?" she mocked. "Your problem is that you always think that you are the top of the world… Oh!"

He made an attempt to grab her and she jumped away. He managed to grab her foot in mid air and then everything happened at once. He could hear a crash, but in the same time, her foot came up to his face with such force that his nose cracked and he fell backwards and landed on his arse. He let out a long curse as the blood ran from his nose. It hurt like hell and he was blinded with tears form the pain.

"Lolly," he called, he didn't want to heal himself when he couldn't see. It could have dangerous consequences.

He could hear the small pop from the House-Elf.

"Cob hee," he said to the elf. "'eal me!"

A small hand came up on his face. He sat very still as the elf used her magic to heal his bones. He sighed in relief when the pain changed to a throbbing sensation. He wiped the tears away and rose. Then he saw Hermione lying on the floor in an awkward angle. He cursed and went over to her. She was unconscious, but thankfully alive. He sat down next to her and sighed. She seemed to have broken her arm, and she would probably have one hell of a headache when she woke up. Which meant he would have one too.

He cursed again and lifted her up from the floor and onto the bed. He was still angry with her. Nevertheless, for the moment, she had got what she deserved. Perhaps he could make her do something… like laundry for all his Death Eaters. With her bare hands. Yes, that would be disgusting enough.

After he had healed her arm and her head, he woke her up. She groaned as she awakened.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You fell," he said.

She looked up at him and her eyes widened. "Why are you so bloody?"

"Oh, well, you kicked me."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Oh, you will be. Because after you have taken Harry back tomorrow, you'll be locked inside a small room and wash all Death Eaters cloths. I guarantee that you'll find some nasty things in them. But you'll not use your wand."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "It sounds like something they would make you do at Hogwarts."

"Yes, it does," he smiled cruelly. "I would make such a good teacher."

She didn't answer that. Instead she turned around and fell asleep. Voldemort looked at her for a moment. His anger cooled down. A small part of him was wondering if she would ever obey him.

xxx

When Hermione woke up the next morning, Voldemort wasn't there. She yawned, got up, did her business in the bathroom and had some breakfast. She fed their son, bathed him in the bathtub and read for him. Both she and Voldemort were eager to educate the boy in everything they knew. Although, Hermione made him promise not to teach their son Dark Arts until he asked for it, or was old enough to look at it objectively. Hermione was a bit worried that it was one of those promises Voldemort wouldn't try to keep.

When the baby fell asleep, Hermione did some morning exercises, both with her body and with her magic. She was trying to learn wand-less magic, if Voldemort would take her wand again. Although, it didn't went very well. The only thing she could really do was make things float and even that gave her a headache.

Voldemort showed up around eleven. For some reason, he pinched his nose when he saw her. Perhaps he was afraid she would accidently break it again. She smirked.

"Where have you been?" she asked and rose from the floor were she had been doing some stretching.

He arched an eyebrow and removed his hand. "Why, did you miss me?"

"No, but I want to get Harry away from you as fast as possible."

He went over to the sofa and sank down. "Perhaps you'll change your mind once you see him."

"What? Why?" She cast a cleansing spell over herself. She didn't have time to take a shower.

Voldemort made a grimace. "He is a bit suicidal."

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"Yes… For the last two weeks, he has begged me to kill him." He sounded awfully nonchalant.

Hermione put a hand across her temple and sighed. "So that's why you are letting him go? You hope he will kill himself?"

"Well, yes," Voldemort confessed. "But I'm giving him a chance. You'll decide where he will go now, perhaps they can help him."

"I want to help him!" She exclaimed .

"Well, you can't help him because we will be going to Brazil tomorrow to search for the Cups," he said matter-of-factly and rose again. He went to her and placed a hand on the small of her back. "Let's go and see your friend. And I wish you to not tell anyone about what Potter has told me. I wish you to not talk about it, write about it or give any hints at all."

Hermione made a grimace (he was clearly not underestimating her anymore) and let herself be lead out of the room. They went to a lower floor and Voldemort opened a small door. The room behind it was better than the one Ginny had occupied when Hermione "rescued" her. There was a bed, a toilet and a window with bars over. A half eaten plate of food was standing next to the door.

She hadn't seen her friend in four months, and she gasped when she saw him now. Harry had always been skinny, but now he looked like skin and bones. His hair was just a black stub, perhaps half an inch long. However, he looked clean and he was wearing a clean grey robe. Hermione wondered why. She looked up at Voldemort who made a gesture for her to go over to the wizard on the bed. Hermione did.

She let out a second gasp when she saw his face. There was no colour on it and his eyes seemed… empty. Hermione stopped the sudden urge to cry and took his hand instead. It was cold. Harry looked at her.

"You are not pregnant anymore," he noticed. His voice was toneless and a bit hoarse, like he just had a cold or something.

"No," she said. "I gave birth to a boy almost five weeks ago."

"A boy," Harry muttered. "He is good, right? Not evil?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, he is good."

"Will you keep him good?" Harry begged.

"Yes, of course I will." She moved closer to her friend and embraced him carefully. He seemed so breakable.

"I dreamt about Ron," Harry said. He was leaning his head against her shoulder. "I miss him."

"I miss him too, Harry," Hermione whispered.

"Do you think we will see him again?"

"You never know." She could hear Voldemort soft snort behind her, but she ignored him. "Perhaps Ron is watching over us… together with our parents."

Harry didn't say anything, he just sighed.

"And even if it would be wonderful to meet them again, there are so many others who want to meet you here on earth. Think about Ginny and Remus…," she continued, trying cheer him up.

Harry groaned. "I think I'm dreaming. You can't be here. He would never let you be here."

"It is me, Harry," she promised. "And I will get you away from here now. Come on."

She helped him rise. Harry didn't say anything. He didn't look up as Hermione lead him past Voldemort and out from the room. Perhaps Harry really thought he was just dreaming. Hermione wondered how long time it would take before he realised that he wasn't.

"One hour, Hermione," Voldemort called after her. "Or I'll come and get you."

She didn't answer. She kept going until she reached the Apparition point. Harry still didn't say anything. She told him that she would take him to Remus and all Harry did was sigh. Hermione sighed as well and Apparated them away.

A moment later they reappeared outside Remus' house. Harry looked around in disbelief.

"It's not a dream, Harry," she reassured him. "Remus will take care of you."

She knocked on the door and a moment later the half naked wizard showed up. He must just have got out from the shower.

"Oh…," Hermione said. Before she had time to apologise, Remus grabbed Harry with a disbelieving look.

"Harry? Is that really you?" Remus asked. "What happened?"

Harry didn't answer. He was blinking rapidly, like he was trying to get tears away, or perhaps wake up. Remus led them inside and Hermione told Remus everything she knew and was allowed to say. Which basically was that Voldemort had tortured Harry for information the past five months and that Harry now was suicidal. Remus seemed horrified. They were now sitting in Remus' small kitchen.

"I have to go," Hermione mumbled after a while. "Voldemort found out that I have, somehow, given Dumbledore information about his plans. He doesn't know whom I gave the information too."

Remus sighed. "Well, that is good, at least. Will you be okay?"

Hermione went over to him and gave him a hug. "Yes. Don't hate me when you read the paper tomorrow. I had to do something to free Harry."

Remus seemed puzzled, but nodded. Hermione went over to hug Harry as well. He didn't seem to react. "I'll try to come and visit some time."

Then she Apparated back home. She had laundry to do.

xxx

Voldemort went his meeting-Death-Eaters office once Hermione left. He had a couple of Death Eaters reports to read. He was halfway through the second report when there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," he called and let the report flop down on the desk in front of him.

The door opened and one of his Death Eaters entered. She was a spy with the perfect plain face no one remembered. She was half-blood and knew her way around in both the wizard world and in the Muggle world. He hadn't seen or heard from her since he sent her out on her mission two months ago.

"Miss Smith," he said with a smile. "I trust you have good news?"

She simply nodded. She was mute since birth, which made her perfect as a spy. People thought she was stupid and let things slip. However, she wasn't stupid. Far from. Voldemort had handpicked her from a small school in Denmark. She understood almost as many languages as he and he usually sent her away on the more delicate missions. Like the one she had been on now. Which was to find his wife's parents.

She handed him over her file and he read through it with great interest. His eyes widened when he came to the end of it.

"They were members of the WFM?" he asked.

Miss Smith nodded and gave him a member's card. He stared at it. WFM, or Wizard Friendly Muggles, was a society of Muggles who supported their wizard relatives. Or, that was what the organisation told everyone that they were doing. The reality wasn't as pretty.

Certainly, they had small gatherings now and then and talked about what they knew about the "other" world and supported each other. However, the founders of the society was Muggle scientists who wanted to know where magic came from and hopefully find a way to let Muggles use it. They were especially fond of parents to Muggle-borns. In later years, some of these parents had started to disappear, ending up in labs in other parts of the world where they underwent several experiences which usually cost them their lives. Not many wizards knew about them, however, there was a small part of the ministry who had tried to find them. They had not succeeded yet.

"Any hints on where they may be now?" he asked the woman.

She shook her head slowly.

Voldemort sighed. "Well, they may still be alive. Keep looking. If they are dead, I want to know where they were killed. The least I can do is to let my wife avenge their deaths."

She nodded. Voldemort threw her a purse of gold and she disappeared. He didn't pay many of his Death Eaters, but he knew that Miss Smith needed money to get around in the world. Besides, she was worth it.

Forty-five minutes later, he was notified by Lolly that Hermione was back. He told the House-Elf to get Hermione to the laundry room and not to help her in any way. Lolly bowed and left. Voldemort stayed in his office for another hour before he called for Severus through the Mark. Just a couple of moments later, the Potions Master showed up.

"You have a perfect timing, my Lord," Severus said and bowed. "My last class just ended."

Voldemort smiled. He knew that. "I hope everything is set for tomorrow? Dumbledore has granted you a vacation?"

"Yes. Slughorn will be covering my classes for two weeks."

"Excellent. We will be leaving tomorrow around noon. Unfortunately, we will have to stay at a Muggle hotel. I have booked a whole penthouse so we won't be disturbed by those filthy Muggles."

"I'm very grateful, my Lord." Severus hesitated.

"What?" Voldemort asked.

"I… I was simply thinking… Your wife will join us, I expect?"

Voldemort nodded, having a feeling what Severus wanted.

"Perhaps it would be… fun for her if she had a female companion? Someone she can do all those… girlish things, like shopping and getting a tan…"

Voldemort chuckled. "If you want to bring Miss Radcliff, I have already considered it and I accept. She may be useful. But if she breathes one word about what we are doing, I won't hesitate to shut her up for good. Understood?"

"Of course, my Lord. She has no reason to be anything but loyal to our cause."

"I'm aware of that; otherwise I wouldn't have let her come. But if you can't keep your head out of the gutter, I will send her home."

Severus smirked. "I understand."

"Good. And remember to bring all your research about South American Potions. Especially about the change in the native populations Potions expertises around the seventeenth century."

That was the reason why Voldemort wanted him to come. No one knew why, but around the time Europe and America found out about each others existence, the native habitations in South America had began to make the most extraordinary Potions. Many believed that it was European knowledge mixed with American, but after Hermione had discovered the diary about from the man who had seen one of the Cups in Brazil, Voldemort wasn't so sure. What if they had some how got their hands on a Cup and it had taught them all the new things? It was worthwhile to investigate, and since Severus knew so much about South America, Voldemort had ordered him to come.

Voldemort waved his hand and Severus bowed and left again. Probably to tell Miss Radcliff about their romantic vacation. Voldemort snorted. If it weren't for Hermione being friends with the werewolf, he would not have let her come. Nevertheless, he could need someone to distract his wife. And Miss Radcliff was a much more suitable friend than Potter and the Weasleys.

Late in the evening, he returned to his and his wife's room. She was already there, lying on the bed with her arms over her head. He went over to her and saw that she had rubbed her hands raw on the laundry. He smirked.

"I hope that will teach you lesson," he said.

She opened her eyes and glared at him. "Could you are least heal them?"

He chuckled. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I can't hold our son. And if I can't hold him, I can't feed him."

He considered it. "Okay. Hold them up."

She did. He grabbed one quite hard. She winced. He ignored it and just healed the broken skin. She let out sigh in relief.

"So, where did you take Potter?" he asked as he took of his robe.

"You need not to worry about that," she answered him and got up from the bed. "Because you will have nothing more to do with him."

He smiled and shook his head as she swayed away to the bathroom. Probably to brush her teeth. He liked that about her. No matter what happened, she always brushed her teeth two times every day. If she didn't he wouldn't kiss her… not so often anyway.

He followed her into the bathroom and as he had expected, she was brushing her teeth. He took his tooth brush and followed her example. Hermione looked at him through the mirror. It was an ordinary mirror, not one of those who kept talking. He hated them. They were annoying. He looked back at her with an arched eyebrow.

She spat in the sink. "I have never seen you brush your teeth before."

He spat as well. "I do it everyday."

"Okay," she said, washed off her toothbrush and left the bathroom.

He finished and then went out as well. He picked up a book from the coffee table and went over to the bed. Hermione was already there, reading as well. He took off his pants and crawled under the blanket.

"Have you thought about how seldom we go to bed together to sleep?" she asked and lowered the book.

He frowned and looked at her. "Do we?"

"Yeah, unless we have sex."

"Oh…" He looked at her, still frowning. "Is this one of your unnecessary complicated ways to tell me you want to have sex?"

She snorted. "No, I'm just making a statement. I'm too tired to have sex."

"Okay." He turned his focus to the book again.

She put her book on the bedside table and sank down in the bed. "We have to come up with a name for our son."

Figuring that he wouldn't get to focus on the book when she was awake, he sighed and put it down on his bedside table. "We are not giving him a boring name."

"What's boring about Peter? Or Richard? Or William?"

"They are ordinary Muggle names," he explained for the fifth time. "What is wrong with Salazar?"

"He will be teased!"

"Not if they want to live," he muttered and rearranged his pillow so he could sink down in the bed.

"You will not threaten other children, Voldemort. He will not have any friend!"

Voldemort sighed and turned to his side so he could look at her. "Friends are overrated."

"No they are not. You didn't have any friends and look what happened to you!" she said, annoyed.

He arched an eyebrow. "Do you imply that there is something wrong with me?"

"You mean there isn't?" she sneered. "For Merlin's sake, you are over seventy and you look like thirty-something."

"And most people envy me for it."

"It isn't natural," she hissed.

"So you would rather be married to someone who looked like seventy?"

"No! If I got to decide, I wouldn't be married at all! But that's beside the point. I'm getting tired of calling him 'baby', we need a name. Or even a nickname!"

Voldemort sighed and reminded himself not to let her know that Dumbledore had come up with a way to break the Contract. "I agree; we need a name. Although, I'll not stand for anything plain…"

"Or we could just give him something plain now and then when he grew up he could change it to You-Know-What." She turned away from him, clearly angry.

He looked at her back. She had the white sheet up to her breasts, but it hung down at the back. He found himself thinking what a lovely back she had…

"I think I understand why we don't go to sleep together unless we have sex," he said dryly.

She huffed and pulled the sheet higher up over her body. Voldemort sighed and turned to his back.

"What about Taranis?" he asked after a while.

She was quite for a while and he started to think that she had fallen asleep.

"We could name him after an ancient god," she finally said. "But not Taranis."

"What's wrong with that?" he asked, a bit irritated.

"Let's sleep on it."

"Fine."

xxx

Hermione was glad that she had eaten her breakfast before she read the newspaper, because she felt a bit sick when she read it. Her interview had been published. It went on and on about how much she adored her husband. Of course, Rita Skeeter had put in a little extra. Lines like; "She smiles and her eyes twinkle as she tells me about their love for the child…" and "She starts to giggle and blush when I ask her about their love life…".

In short, Hermione sounded like a love sick puppy. Voldemort, of course, thought it was excellent. He was annoyingly happy the whole morning.

"Have you thought about a name yet?" he asked as he packed down some robes into a backpack.

Hermione was breastfeeding their son. He took his time these days. She usually sat half an hour before he was done. "Yes, how about Neptune?"

He wrinkled his nose. "No. But I like Roman Gods. How about Domitius?"

She arched an eyebrow. "From the God of marriage? He who makes sure the wife stays in her husband's house? Are you trying to be funny?"

He chuckled. "Yes."

She made a grimace. "Then no. Lares?"

Now he made a grimace. "I'll be the one doing the protecting of the house and family, thank you very much."

"Then it's a shame that you are the one we mostly need protection from," she said matter-of-factly.

He muttered something and turned to the backpack again.

Hermione looked down at their child. His hair was black and thankfully not as curly as hers used to be. His eyes were brown, although, they seemed to change in shade every day.

"How about Dmitri?" she asked. "Or Dominic?"

He stood up, finally down with the packing. "Well, we have left the gods. What made you think about those names?"

"I just… he looks like a D."

"Come again?" He went up to her.

"Well, haven't you ever looked at a person and thought 'he seems to have a name that begin with an A'?"

He blinked. "No, I don't really care about peoples names."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But I think he looks like a D-person."

Voldemort was quite as he looked down at his son. He placed his hand on the baby's head and ran his fingers through the soft hair. "Dominic sounds like a Gryffindor. But Dmitri… I don't know anyone named Dmitri. Yes, it may work."

Hermione smiled and stroked her little son's cheek. "Did you hear that, honey, you got a name!"

The baby just continued to suck on her breast.

"Well, at least he isn't protesting," she mumbled.

Voldemort still held his hand in the boy's hair. He seemed to be thinking. Hermione ignored him when he felt how Dmitri's mouth left her breast. Before she had time to move him Voldemort lifted him up. He stared at the child. The child stared back at him. Hermione felt a tingle run up her spine when a brush of magic went through the room.

Voldemort gave the baby back to her.

"What did you do?" she asked curiously.

Her husband shrugged. "Just a name based protecting charm. Dmitri Salazar Riddle will now be protected against most small charms and jinxes."

She looked at him in surprise.

"What?" he asked. "I do take care of what's mine. Are you ready to go?"

"Sure. Will we be flying?"

He smirked. "Of course. We can't Apparate around the globe, dear."

She shuddered. "I think I need to go to the bathroom again."

Voldemort snorted.

Half an hour later, they were standing on the Apparation point. Hermione felt her stomach clench at the thought of flying over the Atlantic for three hours. Even if she trusted (or knew) Voldemort enough by now to know that he wouldn't push her into the ocean, she was afraid she would drop the baby. He was so small!

She confessed her worry to Voldemort.

"Well, then Miss Radcliff can hold him," Voldemort said and took Dmitri from her.

Hermione's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. "Is Reya coming?"

"Yes, Severus insisted on it."

"Oh…" Hermione bit her lip. "What if I need to feed him during the flight?"

Voldemort sighed. "Then we will stop and you'll feed him. Merlin, Hermione, you are becoming too worried for your own good."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "If we could just move to some place of our own, I wouldn't have to worry about you and your Death Eaters using him in some Dark Ritual."

He arched his eyebrow. "I thought we were talking about this flight?"

She scowled at him, but before she had time to retort, Snape and Reya Apparated into view. They both bowed.

"Finally," Voldemort said and took up his broom. "Miss Radcliff will be carrying Dmitri."

Reya frowned. "Dmitri?"

Voldemort held up their son who he had placed in a carrying bag. Reya smiled and took the baby. Hermione remembered what she had said about always wanting a child and not being able to get one. She felt sorry for the other woman.

They all mounted their brooms, Hermione in front of Voldemort, and then they took off. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to become as small as possible in her husband's embrace.

"We have to do something against your fear of flight, Hermione," he muttered into her ear. "This is pathetic."

"I happen to prefer Apparation, or the Muggle way of travelling," she hissed back.

He huffed something.

After almost two hours, they stopped on one of the small islands of Cape Verde to rest and feed the baby. They landed on a small beach and Voldemort took the opportunity to make them change their clothes into Muggle outfits. He picked up a dark green halter neck dress for his wife.

Hermione stared at it. "This isn't mine," she said.

"It is now," he said calmly and took the baby from her so she could change.

Hermione took her wand and with a quick movement, she changed. The dress fitted perfectly. She pulled her hand over the material. It was made of cotton and it must have some sort of warming spell on it, because she didn't freeze. She guessed it would be perfect in Brazil where it would be around seventy to ninety degrees Fahrenheit this time of the year.

She looked up and saw Voldemort look at her with a half a smile and half lidded eyes. He was dressed in black pants and a green shirt. He had also put a glamour over his eyes so they had almost the same brown colour as hers. No one would suspect him for being a Dark Lord.

"Don't I have to wear a glamour?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, we will be around Muggles… and even if we meet wizards, I doubt they will recognise either of us."

"Okay." She pulled her fingers over the material again.

"You know… that dress will look much better on you if you didn't wear any knickers," Voldemort said with a wicked smile.

Hermione smacked her lips. "I won't sit on the broom, in a dress, without any knickers."

"Pity. I thought we could… have some fun."

Hermione glared at her husband. "Professor Snape and Reya will be there."

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "I don't think we will have to worry about them," he said before he turned toward the bushed were the two love birds had disappeared and yelled; "Are you done yet?"

Hermione doubted they had only changed their clothing, like they said they would. Especially when Reya exited with a mischievous smile on her face. She was wearing black jeans and a red t-shirt, which showed off her cleavage. Hermione was a bit envious of her for that.

Voldemort looked at the female werewolf amused. "And where is Severus?"

Reya chuckled. "Oh, he had to get… rearranged."

"I see."

In that moment, Snape escaped the bush as well. He was wearing black pants, similar to Voldemort's, and a black shirt. He was scowling and Hermione tried not to look at the bulge on front of his pants.

They took off again. This time, Hermione held the baby in the carrying bag.

She leaned against her husband's shoulder. "They are going to shag like bunnies, aren't they?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," he answered. "However, I'll keep Severus busy for most of the time."

Hermione smiled and closed her eyes. If she didn't have to see where they were flying, it wasn't too bad. And perhaps she did trust her husband a little.

They arrived in Brasília, the capital of Brazil, around the same time as they had left England. Reya was the only one who was surprised and Snape kindly told her about the concept of time differences in different parts of the world. Reya blushed and muttered that she knew that... she just hadn't thought about it.

Brasília was a very lively city and Hermione could see that Snape and Reya were quite uncomfortable. Voldemort was holding her hand hard as he led her and the others through the streets. People seemed to get out of their ways, or rather, Voldemort's way. Hermione tried not to look at the beggars who were sitting on the streets. Some of them seemed to be handicapped, but they went past them so quickly she wasn't sure.

One small, South American young man ran into Voldemort. He muttered an excuse and made an attempt to get out of the way, but Voldemort took his hand and crushed his fingers. The young man winced.

"No es bueno robar," he hissed to the man before let go off his hand.

The young robber nursed is hand and with a last scared look on Voldemort, he ran off.

Hermione looked at her husband with narrowed eyes. "How did you know he was a robber?"

"I could feel his hand in my pocket," Voldemort mumbled and continued to walk. "Muggles…"

After a moment, they turned and found themselves next to a gigantic white building with a very modern architecture. Kubitschek Plaza was written on the side of it. Hermione couldn't help but to stare. Voldemort muttered something and dragged her inside. The reception looked very classy with grey, brown and white stone floor. Snape and Reya went to sit in one of the golden suites of armchairs and sofas. Voldemort made a gesture for her to sit with them before he went to the desk.

The receptionist was smiling at him and her smile widened when Voldemort began to talk. The woman looked almost ecstatic. She kept nodding and made gesture with her hands. She gave him a key and called for someone to carry their luggage. Voldemort went over to them with a satisfied grin.

"We have the Kubitschek Suite. Which means we have a whole floor to ourselves. It's usually used by Muggle ministers and presidents. Come along," he said and helped Hermione up.

A porter came and took their two bags. If he was surprised over their lack of luggage, he didn't comment on it. He led them towards the lifts. Hermione didn't think about it until she stepped in and noticed that she was the only one who was doing it. She looked at her husband who had stopped. He seemed to hesitate.

She arched her eyebrows and he made a small grimace and stepped inside. The other two followed. The door closed and Reya let out a gasp when they began to move. Snape eye's widened a bit. Voldemort seemed unaffected, but Hermione could see his hand turn into a fist. Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes. Most wizards really should spend more time among Muggles.

A couple of minutes later, they stepped out in a very big living room. It had neutral earthy tones of beige, reddish brown and orange. It was very luxurious, big and… plush. Big overblown sofas in beige with golden edges. The biggest TV she had ever seen was somehow placed into the brown wooden wall. A double door was open, showing a big white bed with dozens of pillows on top. Next to it, she could see a wall of mirrors which probably hide a closet behind it. There were three other, closed wooden doors.

When Hermione turned around again, Voldemort had got rid of the porter.

"They have set up a double bed in the office," Voldemort said. "You can go and unpack."

Snape bowed and took Reya into one of the rooms. Curious, Hermione opened the second door and found a kitchen in the same colours as the living room. It held a couple of machines that even Hermione had no idea what they did. She left the kitchen and opened the third door. Behind it was a big bathroom with all you needed, even a Jacuzzi.

"That will be Severus' and Miss Radcliff's bathroom," Voldemort said and came up to her. "Ours is connected to our room."

He led her through the living room and up to the master bedroom. She saw their backpack standing on a large truck at the end of the bed. Someone had also placed a crib in the room. Hermione put Dmitri in it and went to look into the bathroom. It looked like the other, only bigger with a long bench under two sinks.

"That bathtub is a Muggle invention I won't mind using," Voldemort purred into her ear.

"Randy bastard," she muttered.

He chuckled. "Only for you, wife."

Hermione couldn't resist smiling. Voldemort could be very charming when he wanted. She wondered why he was this time. When she asked him, he chuckled.

"You are becoming more superstitious," he remarked dryly and pushed her into the room.

"I learn from the best," she retorted and tilted her head when he closed and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

"Flying always makes me tense. I want another one of your massages and I want it now." He started to undress.

Hermione watched him with a raised eyebrow. "What if I don't want to give you one?"

He shrugged and took off his pants. "Then I will leave the hotel, tensed and bad-tempered and try to find some evidence that one of the Cups has been here. And if I fail to find anything, I will be even angrier and… do I really have to continue?"

She frowned as he turned to fill the bathtub with water. "That's blackmailing!"

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Yes?"

She scowled and crossed her arms. "I hate you when you say things like that."

"Oh, you mean that there are actually times when you don't hate me?" He went over to her in all his naked glory. The water was running behind him.

She scowled even more. "It would be quite unnecessary to go around and hate you all the time. It wouldn't make either of us happy."

He sighed and his hand came up into her hair. "You are right. We shouldn't go around and hate each other all the time. After all, we are married. Perhaps we should start to work as a couple… without me blackmailing you into doing it. It really is a vast of time."

Hermione frowned. "What are you suggesting?"

Voldemort smiled. "If you joined me… truly joined me… you would actually get to know what I do and have something to say about it."

She couldn't help but to wonder about her husband's sanity. "Voldemort, you kill people like me because you think my blood it dirty. And you don't let any of your Death Eaters have an opinion on what you do, why would you let me?"

He sighed and pulled her into a hug. Hermione wondered if this was a new technique of his, seducing her into following him. Not that it would work, she knew her husband far too well by now.

"We could overlook the fact that you are a Mudblood. I barely think of you as one any more. And I do listen to your opinions. I let both your friends go, didn't I?"

"That was because I did something for you," she muttered and pulled out of his embrace. "Why is this so important for you now?"

He looked down at her. His hands still on her hips. His eyes were still brown and it made him look… less Dark Lord-y. But she wouldn't succumb. She wouldn't…

"I'm tried of constantly having to watch my back around you," he muttered. "I want you to be my partner. You could help me so much."

"And I want you to stop killing and terrorising people," she muttered back. "Looks like neither of us will have what we want."

"But we could, don't you see that?" he asked and finally let go off her. He started to walk back and forth. "With you by my side, ordinary people will start to look up to me. I'll finally reach those who never wanted to hear me before. I won't have to blackmail them to do my bidding."

"The Order will never help you, no matter what I say," she commented.

He stopped and looked at her. "With your help, they might. They don't realise it, but our people need me! In the way we are going now, the Muggles will overthrow us. They are breeding like rats…"

"Okay," she interrupted. "So once you have all wizards under you, what will you do?"

He smiled. "If you are curious, you should follow me."

"You will do something drastic and kill them all, won't you?" she asked with a tired sigh.

Voldemort didn't answer at once. The bathtub was almost full, so he turned off the sprinkles and jumped in. He let out a satisfied sigh. "Hermione. Tell me one good thing the Muggles have done."

Hermione stared at him. "Well, they have invented a lot of things."

"In what way is that good?" he asked.

"Well, the medicines are very helpful…"

"They are also good when you want to poison someone. Something else."

Hermione thought for a while. "Democracy."

Voldemort snorted. "Oh, give me something harder. In most countries, half the people don't even bother to vote because they don't care what happens to the world. And it's more about smooth talk than doing something good for the country. I don't think many of the Muggles know what they're voting for."

"The wizards aren't perfect!" she hissed and stepped up to him next to the tub. "You certainly aren't! Many Muggles I know are very kind and helpful and friendly…"

"Oh, yes… you can get far with kindness. You can get even further with money and power," he answered ironically.

"Cold-blooded bastard! And you want us to be partners? How could I ever work with someone who thinks the most important thing in the world is power?" She stormed out of the bathroom and threw herself on the bed. Merlin, she hated him so much!

She could feel a tear run down her cheek. He was such a hypocrite! Slimy, heartless, negative, manipulative, treacherous megalomaniac!

She cursed her husband a bit more, but then turned over to her back and sighed. He was right about one thing; they really needed to become a couple. There was no use for them to be miserable forever. She had to come up with something…

After fifteen minutes or something, she had cooled down. She rose from the bed and went into the bathroom again. Voldemort was still in the bathtub and he had somehow managed to make it bubble. He had his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. He seemed happy. Hermione frowned and closed the door behind her. Voldemort opened his eyes and seemed surprised to see her.

"I thought about what you said," she mumbled and went up the bathtub.

Voldemort arched his eyebrow. "You did?"

She ignored his surprised tone. "Yes. You are right."

He smiled smugly. "I know I'm right…"

Now she scowled. "Not about everything. But you were right when you said that we have to become partners."

His smile disappeared and he tilted his head. "I see. Why do you think so?"

"I don't want our child to grow up with two parents who hate each other. It's not good for his mental health. And the Healer did say that he may have problem as it is because of the curse…" She bit her lip again.

"Continue," he requested.

"My first thought was to leave you and take Dmitri with me. However, because of the Contract, we have to live together. I suppose we can take holidays in different places… although, I don't know what happens if we stay away from each other for too long. Probably not anything good."

"Probably not," he said with a small smile.

"Right. So my second thought was that we stop talking with each other. But then again, if we live together, we will have to raise the child together. That means communication." She sighed. "It would be weird if we only speak about Dmitri, and I presume our techniques will be quite different, so we will probably end up fighting anyway."

He simply nodded.

"My third thought actually was that… I would join you. But then I thought about it and… I can't. What you do… What you believe… It's against everything I have ever learned. You'll have to rip away my memory and replace it with a new one if that is to work."

"That could be arranged," he said thoughtfully.

She scowled. "Don't even think about it. If you remove such a big part of my life, I'll probably loose a lot of my intellect, and I won't be able to help you find the Cups."

He sighed. "Yes, you're right. It's too dangerous even for me."

"Good. So… my fourth thought was that… we simply have to compromise like every other couple."

He looked at her in disbelief. "Hermione, we are like day and night. You can't compromise day and night."

"Yes you can, it becomes either dusk or dawn. We have to do the same… meet halfway. We can't continue like this. It's obvious that there is no way out from this marriage."

"And what compromises did you have in mind?"

She nibbled her lower lip for a moment. "We have to stop lying to each other."

He blinked. "Are you lying to me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not this moment. And I'm not saying we have to tell each other everything. However, we shouldn't lie when the other one asks a question. If we don't want to answer the question, we'll just say so."

"So if I ask you where you took Potter…?"

"I'll say that it's none of your business and I won't answer it," she said matter-of-factly.

"Ah…" He seemed to think about it. "But if I ask you what you are going to do today?"

"I would tell you the truth."

He smirked. "So, if I ask you whether or not you want to step into this bathtub and have some sort of sexual intercourse?"

She rolled her eyes again.

"What?" he asked. "I know you like to have sex with me."

"It can be pleasurable," she admitted. "However, I won't touch you until you give me an oath not to lie to me."

He arched his eyebrows. "An oath? I won't even consider giving you an oath like that unless you do the same."

She shrugged. "Or we could just write it in the Contract."

He sighed. "I'll think about it." He sank down in the bathtub so the water reached his neck. Then he took a deep breath and disappeared under the surface.

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bathtub. What was he doing? She frowned, and in the next second, his head broke the surface. He pulled his now dripping hair backwards before he rose. Hermione, a heterosexual woman as she was, couldn't help but to stare at his wet body. The water only reached his knees. She couldn't resist smiling. If she only saw her husband as a sex-object, it would be so much easier to live with him. Only use him for her naughty fantasies… have him tied down on the bed all the time. Yes, that would be the ultimate solution. Unfortunately, her husband would probably try to kill her if she tried to tie him down.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked and finally stepped out of the bathtub and used one of the hotel's towels to dry himself. "I know my body is perfect, but…"

She sighed. "You always ruin it by talking." She rose from the edge of the bathtub. "Are we going to do anything else today or shall I go before we start to fight again?"

"You may have a look in the town… as long as you take Besch with you. Severus and I have to go through some things. Hm… you should bring Miss Radcliff as well." He put the towel around his waist. "Be back at seven for dinner."

She hesitated. "I want us to continue to discuss our relationship tonight."

He sighed. "We'll see."

Figuring that she wouldn't get a better answer than that, she left the room. Perhaps Reya could help her make Voldemort a bit poorer at least?


	22. Chapter 22

Hi! I'm so, so sorry it has taken me such a long time to update! My semester ended last week so I have had a lot to do, and then my beta has being busy as well so... we didn't really have time with the story. But fear not, here is a new chapter! Hope you'll enjoy!

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Chapter 22

Voldemort and Snape were in the middle of a rather heated conversation when they heard an ear splitting scream. Voldemort cursed and debated with himself if he could put a silencing charm over the room or not. Deciding that he could, he swished his wand and the screaming stopped. Snape frowned a little, although he was wise enough not to comment his master's action.

Their discussion continued.

Around six, Hermione and Miss Radcliff came back. Voldemort frowned when he saw all the bags they were carrying. Snape had disappeared into the bathroom just a moment earlier to take a shower before dinner.

"I hope that isn't Muggle clothing," he said in a stern voice.

Hermione's smile faded. "What if it is?"

Miss Radcliff looked around. "Where is Severus?"

"In the shower," Voldemort answered without taking his eyes from his wife. "You aren't allowed to wear Muggle clothing, wife."

Hermione crossed her arms.

Miss Radcliff let out a small sigh. "I'll just go and join him." She disappeared, neither of the Riddles noticed.

"Why wouldn't I be allowed? Now when Dmitri is born, I may come and go as I please. That means I will be spending time in the Muggle world, therefore I have Muggle clothing." She took up her bags again and went toward their bedroom.

"I don't want you to spend time in the… What is that on your shoulder blade?" When she turned her back against him, he saw a black Chinese mark on her shoulder blade. "It that a tattoo?"

She looked back at him and rolled her eyes. "Oh, relax; it will wear of in a couple of weeks. We just thought it would look cool."

He stared at her as she opened the double doors. You hade to push them aside to open them.

"If you want to look cool, I could give you a bloody tattoo," he muttered as she stepped into the room.

He frowned when he saw her eyes widen. She hurried over to the child's bed and Voldemort remembered the silencing spell. When it disappeared, he heard the infant's scream again.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF SALAZAR FUCKING SLYTHERIN HAVE YOU DONE TO MAY SON?" she roared and tried to comfort the crying baby.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Don't scream at me. I had more important things to do than to take care of him."

She stared at him in disbelief. Then she took out her wand and aimed it at him. She opened her mouth and… groaned. The Contract had stopped her from hurting him. Cursing under her breath, she began to change the baby's diaper. Then she took up the bottle Voldemort had neglected to use, and fed their son.

"Hermione…"

"I'm not talking to you," she hissed and turned her back against him.

"Fine," he spat and went to the bathroom to get ready for the dinner.

Dinner became a rather awkward affair. Hermione wouldn't even look at Voldemort and Voldemort was angry with her because she wouldn't.

Thankfully, Miss Radcliff seemed to be able to talk for all four of them. She told Severus about every store she and Hermione had been in, and how surprised she was over the fact that Muggles could make such good products.

Voldemort hardly noticed any of it. He was plotting on ways to make his wife obey him. She had been manageable when she had his offspring in her stomach, but now she wanted to talk about cooperation and having her own life. Merlin, if she wasn't so useful he would… well, not kill her, but he would do something nasty. He mentally sighed and glanced at his wife. She was wearing a very pretty red dress she had bought earlier. It was very simple with small straps over her shoulders and tight over her slightly larger breast (due to the milk in them). It reached her knees and had a slit which gave him quite a view of her thighs when she sat down.

What bothered him the most was that she looked so incredibly fuckable in it. He was sure she only wore it to bother him and he didn't like it. She was getting too sneaky for her own good! Another question that had bugged him for the whole evening was why he didn't just take her up to their room and take her up against that mirror closet. He was sure he could make her enjoy it in some way; he only had her word that she couldn't have sex. What if she was lying? He wouldn't put it past her. Not that it made any sense, though. They had had sex every morning the month before Dmitri was born, and she hadn't complained. Hell, they had almost done it just a couple of nights ago and she had screamed like a Banshee!

He was pulled out from his thoughts when the waiter came in with the desert. It was some sort of ice-cream cake. Voldemort muttered that he only wanted some tea. The others, on the other hand, didn't mind the sugar sweet, tooth-destroying, constipating, mind-blocking cake. They gladly began to eat. He huffed under his breath and sipped on his tea. They were so stupid sometimes. Didn't they know what all that sugar did to their bodies?

When he had drunk half his cup of tea, he realised that he in his anger had forgotten something. To check the tea for poison. His heart began to speed up.

"Excuse me," he muttered and stood. On his way to the lift (they had been dining in the hotel's restaurant) he started to check his body for symptoms. Except for the fact that his heart was still beating madly, he couldn't find any. Nevertheless, that didn't mean he hadn't been poisoned. Some poisons didn't show until it was already too late.

The elevator took it's time and Voldemort cursed under his breath. He had to get the tea out from his body! He couldn't risk it.

It finally came and he stepped in and pressed the button several times before the door closed. He had begun to sweat. Did this stupid Muggle invention have to go so slow? He could be dying!

He shuddered at the thought and thankfully the doors opened and he found himself inside his room. He raced to the bathroom and threw himself on the toilet. The tea, and the rest of the dinner, came up again. He was shaking as he sank down on the floor with his head on the toilet seat. Too close. That had been too close. If she hadn't districted him with that dress, he would never have forgotten to check for a poison. Merlin knew he had enough enemies to be worried! If they somehow found out he was here…

The bathroom door opened. He sighed but didn't look up. A hand was placed on his back, carefully… trembling…

"Was there… something bad in the food?" his wife asked with an unusual voice. She almost sounded worry.

"Get out," he muttered.

She removed her hand from his back. "I just… Do I have to be worried?"

"No, go." He didn't want her to see him like this. He didn't want her to think he was weak. Because he wasn't weak, just careful.

"I…" She sighed and rose. "Just call me if you need anything."

He didn't answer. Merlin, she thought he was weak. He had to show her he wasn't! He had to… he didn't know how, but he had to show her! After taking a deep breath, he stood and cleaned himself with a spell. He drank some water (after checking it for poison) and washed his face. Then he left the bathroom.

Hermione was sitting on the bed with Dmitri in her arms. He wasn't asleep and Hermione was talking to him in a low voice. Not with a baby-voice, thankfully. He would never have been able to stand it. She looked up with a concerned look.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"That's none of your business," he hissed.

She seemed taken aback by his harshness. "Sorry…"

"Leave the baby, we are going out."

She frowned. "Where? And I'm not leaving the baby alone again…"

"They will stay here, won't they?" he made a gesture toward the other room where Severus and Radcliff probably were.

Hermione sighed and rose from the bed. She went to the other bedroom and knocked. A moment later, Severus opened the door, dressed in a bathrobe. Voldemort snorted. They were like bunnies.

"Uhm… sorry to bother you but… could you to watch Dmitri?" Hermione asked, not really meeting her ex-teacher's eyes.

"Of course," Severus answered, just as awkwardly. "Just… put him in his bed. I'll cast a spell so we can hear… if he needs anything."

"Thank you," Hermione mumbled and turned around.

Once she had put the child in his bed again, Voldemort took her hand and dragged her out from the room and out from the hotel. It was past nine and the nightlife of the city had just begun. Voldemort breathed in the air of carbon dioxide, smoke and a various other typical city-smells which reminded him of why he preferred to live in small towns or on the countryside. The sky was dark, but the city wasn't. Muggles and their electronic light. He scowled at it as he dragged his wife toward the wizard's part of Brasília. Lucius had told him about some… interesting clubs which were illegal in London. Lucius had been very excited about the "massage parlours", but he had also told Voldemort about duelling-clubs and a Dark Arts coffeehouse where wizards exchanged their knowledge about the Dark Arts.

"Where are we going?" Hermione wanted to know when they had walked for almost a quarter of an hour.

"You'll see," he muttered. He was in the mood for a duel. He wanted Hermione to know that he wasn't weak.

After another five minutes, he found the entrance to a wizard's alley. Like in London, they had to go through another house to get to the alley. The place was a restaurant, but it had no guests. When Voldemort glanced at the pricelist, he wasn't so surprised. The waiter tried to make them stop for a drink, but Voldemort just pushed him aside.

"You are not in a very good mood, are you?" Hermione muttered.

"I will be," he muttered back as they stepped through the entrance to the alley. He transfigured his Muggle clothes to a forest green robe. She lifted her arms to do the same, but he stopped her. "No. You are fine."

She arched an eyebrow. "I thought you hated Muggle clothes."

His eyes wandered downwards over her body. "Not when you look so deliciously slutty. I'll probably get to torture someone for touching you tonight."

She paled. "You wouldn't…"

"Oh, yes, wife. I would. Come along." He continued their journey in search for the duelling-club. The alley was nearly empty. They only met one other wizard who hurried past them without looking at them.

When he found the club, he felt quite sure that everyone of the Brasília wizarding population was in that club. It was crowded and very noisy. People screamed and cheered at something in the middle of the room. It was dark, except in the middle and when they went into the club, he saw two wizards duelling in what reminded him of a Muggle boxing ring. The audience was sitting on different levels around it at small tables. Everyone seemed to be drinking some sort of alcohol.

He made way for them down to the VIP-section. It wasn't hard to find. It was a small secluded area where everyone looked extremely wealthy. They weren't cheering like the rest of the audience either; they seemed more interested in the women who were serving them wine.

In a quick Spanish (he didn't speak Portuguese, but the languages were very similar so he understood it perfectly) he explained to the owner that he wanted to fight. The owner took one look at Hermione and invited them both to sit next to him.

Voldemort sank down in one of the overstuffed white and blue armchairs and before Hermione had a chance to sink down next to him, he pulled her into his lap.

"I'm not a sex-object," she hissed and glanced at the other women (and men) in similar positions. They all seemed to be dim little sluts, searching for a rich husband to satisfy their lust for material things.

Voldemort couldn't help but to snort at her comment. "Of course you aren't. If you were, I would actually have sex with you."

She huffed and made an attempt to get up, but he held her still. The man, the owner, next to him, made a comment about her reluctance and that he should get his money back. Voldemort laughed out loud and told the man that he, unfortunately, was married to her.

The man seemed very surprised and muttered an excuse.

"So, now they know you are taken," he commented dryly. "Better?"

She snorted unladylike. "At least they don't take me for a prostitute."

"No, although I'm sure you could make quite a lot of money by pretending to be one," he remarked, honestly.

She elbowed him, not hard, in the ribs. "Perhaps if you get yourself killed."

"Don't worry, I won't." He placed a hand on her thigh and watched the current duel. It was a wizard and a witch. The witch was better than the wizard, but he saw a lot of errors in their duelling. The witch won in the end and cheers as well as groans broke out in the room.

The owner told Voldemort that he could fight now if he wanted. Voldemort, whom still was eager to fight, stood and dumped his wife on the seat. With a grace that would make no one guess his current age, he jumped up in the ring. His opponent turned out to be one of the wizards who had been fighting when they entered the club. The wizard had dark skin and a lot of muscles. He seemed to be very cold and calculating. Voldemort liked that. It would make the match more interesting.

A bell rang and the match begun. Voldemort focused on his opponent as they slowly circled each other. For someone so big, the dark wizard was very graceful. Voldemort made a first test attack. The other wizard put up a shield without blinking. He was probably a solider of some sort. Voldemort noticed a black mark on the dark skin and mentally sighed. The other wizard was from the war academy of Ghana. The good thing was that Voldemort had studied their technique and would probably be able to figure out the wizard's style after a while. Nevertheless, the warriors of Ghana were best of the best. Voldemort guessed this wizard was an outcast; otherwise he would hardly be in a club like this. Although it didn't matter much. He had the mark, which meant he had fulfilled his education. Which meant Voldemort was in for a very tough fight.

Deciding it was better to attack first, Voldemort started to cast curses for real. The Ghana warrior seemed surprised at his viciousness, but responded quickly. Voldemort received a cut over his left arm which began to bleed, but not before he managed to cut the other wizard's shoulder, not even an inch away from his neck. Voldemort pretended to get tired. He could see the warrior's smug face when he thought the match was won. He went in for the kill and… Voldemort jumped. He used his magic to fly over his opponent and stabbed him in the back with a rather nasty curse which would probably make the warrior delusional for days.

With a satisfied grin, he stepped out of the ring and went back to his wife. The owner congratulated him for an excellent fight and wanted to give him some wine. Voldemort declined. He hardly paid the owner any notice because Hermione was more interesting. She was actually smiling at him.

"Merlin," she said. "I never knew you were such a good fighter!"

He smirked, sank down next to her and placed an arm around her. "If you train with me, you may be almost as good."

"Almost?" she asked.

"I'm not stupid, I would never let you be as good as me," he mumbled into her hair, suddenly feeling quite tired. "Let's go home."

"Finally." She sighed, relived.

He bid farewell to the owner who wanted him to come back another night. Voldemort promised he would consider it. Perhaps he could take over the business? He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the bright blue eyes staring at him from the audience.

xxx

Hermione woke up first the next morning. Voldemort was snoring a little. Hermione was lying on her side with her hand on her husband's elbow. He was lying on his back with one arm over his head and the other over his stomach. Hermione could see the cut he had received last night during the fight.

Merlin, she had never been so impressed in her entire life! He was an extraordinary fighter and she had suddenly understood why so many people followed him. People looked up to great fighters; in most ancient societies the greatest warriors had always been the leaders. Great fighters were respected. Not only because of their ability to protect their people, but because a great fighter could hurt you if you didn't do what the fighter wanted. Hermione wouldn't be surprised if most Death Eaters saw Voldemort as both a protector and someone to fear. At least now she knew Voldemort could protect her and Dmitri.

Unless he mistreated the poor little baby to death when she wasn't around. Hermione sighed and sat up in the bed, suddenly remembering why she was angry with him. She had feared that he wouldn't be a very good father, but to completely neglect the baby? It was just… wrong. She had to find a way to make sure the baby was never alone with Voldemort. Perhaps they should hire a nanny after all? She was certain Voldemort would be more pleased if Hermione was home with Dmitri all the time, however, Hermione wanted to _do_ something. She was a better mother than Voldemort was a father, but it wasn't her dream. Sure, she had always thought that she would have children some time, although not at the age of twenty! There was so much she still wanted to do! Most of the things were probably impossible now, like travelling around the world. It was just too dangerous for a child. She didn't want to be away from her baby that long. She did feel a responsibility for him. Nevertheless, there were other dreams… like getting a job. Not anything life threatening, but perhaps a job in a bookstore, or in the Ministry, or even at Hogwarts! However, who would employ the wife of Lord Voldemort? The mother of the Dark Lord's offspring?

She sank down in the bed again, not in the mood to get up. An arm came around her and she was pulled toward her husband.

"Good morning," he purred into her hair.

Hermione just sighed. She wasn't as angry with him now as she had been yesterday but… she felt a bit resentful.

Voldemort didn't seem to notice. "Aren't you impressed by your husband?"

She grunted.

"You are! How couldn't you be? I'm probably the best fighter in the world," he said with a chuckle and let his hand wander from her waist to her thigh.

"You certainly aren't the most modest person," she muttered.

"Modesty will get you nowhere." His hand travelled up to her stomach and Hermione couldn't help but to shudder. "Neither will false modesty."

"What do you mean?" she asked and opened the eyes she hadn't even noticed she closed.

He turned her over to her back and rolled on top of her. "You are a brilliant witch, Hermione, but you are wasting your potential." He bent down to kiss her neck but she pushed him off.

"Well, you are the one who wants to keep me locked in a golden cage," she said irritated and sat up again.

He pulled her down and held her shoulders in a firm grip. "That's because I can't trust you, dear." He kissed her shoulder. "Although that's not what I mean. You got to let go off your false modesty. I know you want to shine, be powerful and respected…"

"Is this one of your, you-should-be-a-Death-Eater-speeches? Because I'm not in the mood."

"No, this is one of my the-world-is-not-divided-into-good-and-evil-speeches," he said with a chuckle.

Hermione sighed. "I already know that…"

"You do?" He rolled on top of her again and placed his hands over her wrists. "When did that happen?"

She sighed. "I have always known that there is a grey-zone, but there are darker shades of grey and you certainly are one of them… and why are you on top of me? I don't want to have sex with you."

He snorted. "As pleasurable as that may have been, I'm not here to have sex with you. Yesterday you claimed that you had lied to me. I am usually very good at spotting lies. But then again, you know that and you are clever enough to dance around the truth. Alas, in this position, I can both feel your pulse; see your eyes and notice if you begin to sweat." He smirked down at her. "Oh, beginning to sweat already, Hermione? Do you have something to hide?"

Hermione tried not to blink, although she was indeed sweating. How would she talk her way out of this?

He shifted to a more comfortable position so he was leaning against his elbows. His hands were still over her wrists. "There are a few things I have wanted to ask you for quite some time now… I'll begin with the easiest. Why do you hate Draco Malfoy so much?"

She relaxed a little. She didn't mind telling the truth about this! "He is an arrogant little snob who thinks he can get everything because his father is rich. I have never been able to stand people like him and if I get the chance, I'll kick his tiny little arse all the way to Jupiter!"

He seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Oh, well, I can't blame you. The Malfoys are indeed very snobby. Although, don't send him to Jupiter. When Lucius dies, Draco will take over… and he is so easy to manipulate. This is good, because I want his resources."

Hermione snorted.

"Next question. Do your Order friends still like you?"

Hermione frowned. "Well… according to McGonagall, some of them think I'm a treacherous slut. But I now Remus will always love me… probably Harry as well."

"Love you?" Voldemort frowned. "You never said you loved each other."

"Of course we love each other! He is my friend. There are many different types of love. You don't have to be attracted to everyone you love."

Voldemort seemed doubtful. "Are you sure the werewolf only _loves _you as a friend? Because he seemed to be rather attracted to you."

Hermione eyes widened. "You have to be kidding! He is like an uncle or something! Besides, he is old enough to be…" she stopped when she realised he was smiling. "Oh, come on, you aren't… well, you are timeless."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," he said, still smiling. "Next question. Do you plan to have a career?"

"Yes."

"As what?"

Hermione sighed. "I'm not sure… who would want to employ me? Especially after the interview…" She broke eye contact with him. "You really have ruined my life."

Voldemort made her turn her head toward him again so he could see her eyes. "When I take control over the Ministry, you can have any job you want. I could even make you Minister!" Then he smiled. "If you help me, that can happen much sooner…"

She scowled and didn't answer.

"Final question; when you saw that Severus worked for me, you got quite angry. However, since then, you have acted very neutral towards him. Why is that?"

Hermione's disloyal heart started to speed up. "Well, he has been more civilised here than he was in school… and I'm acting rather friendly toward you, so why shouldn't I be friendly toward him?"

"Ah, but you have always known who I am. He broke your trust. That stings harder than anything I have done toward you. Besides, you are sweating so I know there is something you aren't telling me."

Hermione bit her lip as she tried to come up with something believable. "I… I just don't think he is evil. Unlike you, he hasn't done anything to hurt me… quite the opposite. So… I just thought that he… perhaps… was trying to be good. And I can't hate someone who is trying…"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "I see. That's a harmless explanation, girl… why are you so nervous? What are you hiding? If you don't tell me, I will use Legilimency on you."

Hermione winced. "N-no! It's just… I don't know why I am so friendly toward Snape. I realise that I shouldn't be but… it's just nice to see someone familiar! I really miss Hogwarts a-and m-my life b-before I g-got m-married." She had started to cry. She hated it, but she couldn't help it. The pressure made her cry.

She was very surprised when Voldemort rolled off her. "You don't have to get weepy about it. Women…" He left the bed and went to the bathroom.

Hermione wiped her tears away with the sheets from the bed. Was Voldemort uncomfortable with her crying? He had made her cry a lot of times before! Although… he had seemed to be very uncomfortable about it those other times as well. At least when he hadn't intended to make her cry. Hermione could feel a small smile appearing on her face. It looked like she had found another weakness in her husband.

xxx

Around noon the same day, Voldemort and Severus travelled to an old village a couple of hundred miles north of Brasília. It took them some time to find the village, because it was in the middle of the Amazon. Severus had heard a rumour that the chief of the village knew more about potions than anyone else in the world. Voldemort was eager to meet him. He knew a lot about potions, but wasn't arrogant enough to think he knew everything about it. Severus had proven that a long time ago.

The only subject Voldemort would claim knowing better than everyone was Dark Art. He knew he didn't know everything; he had a couple of clay-tablets from the Indus Valley no one had been able to translate. There was probably a lot of other lost knowledge in the world.

They travelled by broom and it took them some time to spot the village in the jungle. The trees were in the way. They carefully started to sink down toward the ground. A big green anaconda was lying on a tree limb, almost camouflaged under the big greenish leaves. The serpent lifted its head when he passed it. Voldemort greeted it. The serpent didn't answer, it just looked at him. Voldemort frowned. Serpents were usually talkative when they found that a human could talk with them. They always had something to complain about.

With a shrug, he continued his way down. Severus had already landed. A couple of villagers were standing outside their small cottages, looking at them. They were all magical, but they didn't use the same sort of magic Europeans did. Voldemort wasn't sure this people had ever seen a flying broom before.

Severus greeted them. Voldemort had ordered him to do the talking. These people spoke a dialect he wasn't familiar with. He understood some of the words, but since Severus knew it by heart, it was better if the younger man did the talking.

Voldemort looked around in the village as Severus tried to find out where the chief was. The village wasn't big. Six cottages made of dirt and wood with a big fireplace in the middle. He could see some agricultural land a couple of yards away. They also had a small farm with chickens.

A thin dirty boy came up to him. Voldemort arched an eyebrow. The boy was clothed in just a long grey tunic. His brown hair didn't seem to have been combed for days. The boy reached out a hand to touch his broom and Voldemort gripped his wrist and shook his head. Then he frowned when he realised that the boy was wearing a glamour. When he touched him, he saw through the glamour for a moment. The boy wasn't dirty at all…

Voldemort let go of the boy and looked at the village with narrowed eyes. The whole village was a glamour. Probably to make sure they were left alone. Voldemort had to admit it was clever. They could probably see the real village, but everyone else saw just a bunch of poor people trying to survive. It probably made thieves stay away as well. It took a lot of magic to do something like that. It was easy to fool Muggles, but not to fool other wizards. He was looking forward to meeting this chief.

A moment later, Severus beckoned that they could go. Voldemort followed his minion to one of the cottages. It was dark and it took some time before Voldemort's eyes adjusted. He frowned when he saw an old man sitting on a carpet in the other end of the room. Severus sank down on his knees in front of the man and bowed his head. Voldemort sank down on his knees because there wasn't enough room to stand up. He didn't bow his head; he simply looked at the old man. His hair was long and white and he was wearing simple brown clothes. His face was wrinkled by time; however, he was sitting with his legs crossed and his back straight.

Severus said something in the same dialect he had spoken before. Voldemort recognised words like "honoured" and "please". The old man didn't look at Severus, his grey eyes rested on Voldemort.

"You are… not real," the chief suddenly said in a broken English. "Dark."

Voldemort tilted his head. "Yes?"

The old man chuckled. "Loco… crazy…"

"Perhaps," Voldemort said. If they were alone, he would have tortured the man into telling him what he knew about the Cups.

"Sir," Severus said to the old man. "We are very curious about your extraordinary knowledge about Potions."

The old man chuckled again. "No… You are interested in Cálice dos Deuses."

Voldemort could feel excitement rush through his blood. "You know about the Cup?"

The old man slowly stood from the ground. "Come… I show you."

Voldemort and Severus stood as well and followed the old man out from the cottage. The other villagers looked at them as the chief led them toward the trees. The big anaconda came down from the trees and greeted the old man. The old man greeted back.

"_You speak it?_" Voldemort asked in Parsel.

The old man looked at him over his shoulder. "_I speak it. Our clan is called the Serpent-tongued for a reason. There are eight of us in our village. I know about three others in other villages._"

Voldemort frowned. He had met people who understood Parsel before, but never people who actually spoke it. "_It is a forgotten art._"

"_It truly is. None-speakers are frightened of it._" The man continued to walk with the serpent next to him.

Voldemort stepped up next to him on the small path. All thoughts about torturing the man had disappeared. He wanted to know more about this clan. "_Who are your ancestors?_"

"_The commoners think he was a god. A snake-man._"

Voldemort nodded. Yes, many of the old cultures had worshiped a god that looked like a serpent. How interesting.

"_How come you speak it?_" The old man asked.

"_My mother's family knew it. They are dead. My ancestor Salazar Slytherin spoke it, but I don't know how he was able to…_"

"_So only you and your son speak it?_"

"_Yes. How did you know I have a son?_"

"_I can see it in your eyes. You are very fond of your precious as well._"

Voldemort frowned. "_No, I find her very annoying!_"

The old man only chuckled. Voldemort thought about torturing him again. Then he suddenly turned to his left and Voldemort found himself at the entrance of a cave. The old man lit a small fire in his hand and started to walk into the cave. Voldemort took out his wand and lit it as well. There were numerous of signs on the walls of the cave. Paintings of humans, animals, buildings and stars. Voldemort could almost see the magic in the stone. This place was some sort of sanctuary and the paintings was telling him a story.

They went deeper into the cave until they reached an altar made of stone. The walls and floor around it were filled with different signs. More like letters than paintings.

"Your Cup," the old man said in English. "Used to stand there." He pointed at the altar. "It disappeared before my time."

Voldemort looked at Severus who was studying the paintings on the walls.

"_How did it get here?_" he asked in Parsel. He didn't want Severus to know what he really was after. The fewer who knew, the better.

The old man also looked at Severus before he answered Voldemort. _"It came from the west over two thousand and two hundred years ago. It came here on a boat. A man was on the boat. He had been ordered to throw it over the face of the earth. Unfortunately, the earth has always been round. But that man decided to stay here and hide the Cup. It became something holy."_

"_Why was he ordered to throw it off the face of the earth?"_

The old man went over to one of the paintings and pointed at a picture of a man with a royal sash on his body. "_He came from China, during the time of the first emperor. The emperor was terrified of death. He searched the earth for immortality. Thousands of years earlier, in the coldness of the North, the Goblet of Gods was made. It was told to give immortality to its drinker, but it could do so much more. The emperor's servants found the Goblet of Gods, but his opponents stole it and decided to get rid of it…"_

"_How could that man survive the journey over the Pacific Ocean alone in a boat?" _Voldemort asked. This was just too good to be true.

But the old man smiled. "_Isn't it obvious? He drank from the Goblet. It didn't give him immortality, but he lived for a very long time."_

Voldemort stared at the altar. "_Did your people ever use it?"_

"_My people? My dear boy, my people didn't exist when this happened. But we know how to read in stones. These paintings are from that time, and a couple of hundred years after that. A young boy found this cave the same year the Europeans came to this land. Our most powerful sorcerers found out what had happened and they were able to use the magic of the Goblet to protect the magical inhabitants of our people from the Europeans."_

Voldemort frowned. _"So the Cup… Goblet… It just stood here for 1500 years?"_

The old man shrugged. _"Perhaps, perhaps not. The stones haven't told us about anyone else entering the cave. Perhaps someone did."_

"_Do you know anything about another Goblet?"_

"_No."_

"_When did this one__ disappear?"_

"_About 150 years ago. We don't know who took it or what happened with it. One day, it just wasn't there anymore. It had other things to do."  
_

Voldemort looked around in the cave again. Helga Hufflepuff had had a Cup around a thousand years ago which had given life to Hogwarts. Two thousand years ago, the Romans had had another Cup which had brought death to the Gladiators. He had thought it was two different Cups. The Cup of Life and the Cup of Death. But if this Cup had been here for more than 2000 years, then Helga's and Romans' Cups had to be one and the same. Unless there were three Cups? No, for some reason, he didn't believe that.

Merlin, he needed to talk to his wife about this…

Wait… had he just thought that he needed Hermione? He shuddered. No. He didn't _need_ her. He simply… well… since she already knew… it would just be faster if they thought about this together. Yes. That was it. He didn't need his wife's help. He just… wanted to be effective.

"We're leaving," he said to Severus and turned to walk out from the cave.

The old man put a hand on his arm. "Come back tonight. With your wife. It will help you."

Voldemort frowned, but found himself nodding. Well, it couldn't hurt… Hermione would probably wet her pants in excitement. It was always fun to see her excited. It was so much easier to get things out of her when she was.


	23. Chapter 23

New chapter! Yay! Thank you Lady-Gizzy for betaing it so quickly!

This chapter have been censured. Those of you who are 18 or older can find the full chapter on adultfanfiction!

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 23

Hermione wasn't in the mood to go out and shop, so she spent the morning watching the TV with Reya. The other woman had never watched TV before and Hermione spent a good ten minutes explaining things like electricity and radio-waves. Reya didn't seem to understand so in the end Hermione had just told her to look at it like a magical photo. Only with sound and colour.

They watched the same show Hermione had seen in Finland, only in Portuguese this time. Hermione didn't know why, but she felt smug when she saw the young heroine kicking the villains arse. Reya snorted over the silly love affair the heroine had with some man in the show.

Voldemort and Snape came back at lunchtime with some take-away food. After they had eaten, Snape and Reya decided to take a walk to the magical market. Hermione sank down on the couch again with Dmitri in her arms. It was time for milk. Voldemort took the opportunity to tell her what he and Snape had been doing. Hermione found the old chief's story very fascinating.

"What if there is only one Cup?" Hermione said.

"Care to explain that thought?" Voldemort asked and sank down on the armchair opposite to the couch.

"Well… what if the Cup can travel trough space and time? That would explain why so many have claimed to see it at the same time."

Voldemort arched an eyebrow. "It's just a Cup, Hermione, not a human."

"No, but what if it has a conscious? I mean, like the Sorting Hat."

Voldemort sank back against the armchair and clasped his hands together. "The old man did call it the Goblet of Gods. Do you believe in Gods?"

"I believe there have been people powerful enough to get the status of a God. Although, I don't believe God has created men."

"Neither do I." Voldemort sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "However, something tells me there are two of them. Life and death, dark and light… like yin and yang."

"Perhaps you are right." Hermione stroked her baby's black hair. It was so soft!

"However, if the Cup is a thinking object… what is its mission? Why was it made? Because it isn't human, so it can't have been made by mistake," Voldemort's eyes lingered at Dmitri for a moment.

Hermione glared at Voldemort. "If you ever tell our son that he was just a mistake, I'll find a way to castrate you!"

He arched an eyebrow. "But he was a mistake, Hermione. Neither of us wanted him."

If glares could kill, Voldemort would have died. Hermione pressed the baby closer to her body, as though to protect him from his father's harsh words.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Fine. Back to the Cups. Do you think they… or it… has a mission?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, they, or it, must have been made for a reason. I wonder where they came from. It could tell us a lot about the purpose."

Voldemort stood and started to pace. "When was pottery invented?"

Hermione shrugged again. "Well, it expanded a lot at the same time as humans began with agriculture. But the oldest vessel they have found is about 12500 years old. It's from Japan."

He shook his head. "The wizards weren't so advanced back then. It's not easy to make a magical object. Writing had to be invented."

"Well, Sumerian is the oldest written language we know of. The earliest findings are from 3200 BCE," she said. "Although, that happened in Mesopotamia, where Iraq is now. I too think it comes from the North, so… perhaps the Cups aren't more than 3000 years old?"

Voldemort sank down in the armchair again with his head in his hands. "We need more information." He suddenly looked up at her. "You have to steal it."

Hermione frowned. Dmitri had finished feeding, so she removed him from her breast and placed him over her shoulder. "Steal what?"

"Dumbledore talked about Hufflepuff's Cup like he knew something about it. You have to break into his office and find the book."

Hermione blinked. "You must be joking."

"No! When we get back I wish you to break in to Dumbledore's office, see if you can find anything about the Cups and bring it back to me. I wish you to not notify Dumbledore or anyone else about what you are doing there. If someone sees you, you'll lie and get back to me."

She blinked again as she felt the tingle of magic. "That is not fair!"

He stood from the armchair again. "I'm certain you will make a wonderful thief, dear. Now, get some rest. I'll go back to the village later and you'll come with me."

"What ever for?" she asked, trying to figure out a way to break his wish.

"Perhaps you can get something out from the chief."

"How?"

He started to walk toward the lift. "Use your imagination!"

Hermione stared after him. Did he imply that she should…? No… He couldn't! She was his wife! Or could he?

Cursing over her evil, manipulative husband, she went to the bathroom to take a shower. Dmitri had thrown up in her hair again.

Several hours later, Hermione was dressed in a comfortable knee-long brown skirt and a red blouse. She was standing in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom. It was almost seven o'clock and she had just put Dmitri to sleep. Voldemort had said that they would be leaving at seven, and Hermione wanted to look nice. She wanted to make a good impression, but she didn't want to look shallow. The only jewellery she wore was her wedding-ring and she had put her hair up in a plait.

Voldemort came in to the bathroom. When he saw her, he sighed. "Why?"

"Why, what?" she asked and left the bathroom with a last glance in the mirror.

Her husband followed her. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"You don't like it?"

He made a grimace. "You look so… Muggle."

She arched an eyebrow. "And?"

He was dressed in ordinary black pants and a blue shirt, but somehow, you just couldn't mistake him for a Muggle. Perhaps it was his red eyes.

"Muggles are bad!" he muttered and took her arm.

"My parents are Muggle," she reminded him, and then frowned. "Do you know anything new about my parents?"

He sighed. "We don't have time for this now. Besides, I don't want you to get your hopes up."

Hermione arched her eyebrows. "You care about my feelings?"

He looked down at her. "No, you are just annoying when you cry."

"Oh…" Why wasn't she surprised?

Voldemort Disapparated them away. She closed her eyes and didn't open them again until she felt solid ground underneath her feet. They were standing just outside a small village. She could see a fire and hear voices from behind the cottages. Still holding her hand, Voldemort started to walk toward the fire and the voices. When they came closer, Hermione pulled her hand from his. She didn't want these people to believe she had been forced to come here. She was really interested in meeting them!

An old man stood in the circle of people around the fire. He greeted Voldemort with a nod before he turned to Hermione.

"Good day," he said with a heavy accent.

Hermione smiled. "Hello. Thank you so much for inviting me."

"I was… curious." It seemed like he couldn't come up with the right words. Hermione understood him; she never found the right words when she was speaking French.

She heard Voldemort huff. The old chief took her arm and led her to the fire. Voldemort followed them, however, when the chief sat down with Hermione, there was no room for Voldemort. He huffed again and sat down at the opposite side of the fire instead. Hermione was a bit surprised that he didn't make a scene. On the other hand, he probably hoped she would be able to get some more information out of the old man.

Someone started to speak. Hermione didn't understand the words, but she listened carefully. She got the feeling that this was some sort of feast. They were all dressed in colourful clothes and she could see drums standing next to some of the men.

"We celebrate the end of this… uhm… era," the chief whispered in her ear. "We are gone soon."

Hermione frowned, but nodded. She wasn't sure what he meant, were they leaving? Or had someone died? She knew there were people who celebrated death as the next step of life.

"Your man is wary, no?" the old man asked.

Hermione shrugged. "He is always wary. He doesn't trust anyone."

He nodded with a thoughtful look on his face. "You don't… know each other?"

She sighed. "We have been married for nine months, so we know things about each other. But no, we don't know each other."

"You wish to know him?"

Hermione looked at her husband. He was in a conversation with a younger man to his left, but he kept glancing at her. His eyes seemed to be burning in the light of the fire. Not an angry burn… only burning.

"I don't know. Something tells me this marriage is doomed to fail. Although, if we could only talk to each other, perhaps it didn't have to be so hopeless."

The chief nodded. "We always need to talk."

Hermione sighed. An old woman came up to her and gave her a bowl with soup. Hermione realised that half of the people in the circle had received a bowl. Voldemort was looking at his with a superstitious look. He was probably checking it for poison or something like that. Hermione couldn't help but to roll her eyes. She pitied the fool who would try to poison Lord Voldemort's food. They wouldn't live to see tomorrow for sure.

"Eat," the old man said with a smile. "Healthy."

Hermione took a small sip. She hadn't got a spoon, so she had to drink it. It didn't taste bad, but very different from anything else she had eaten before. The main ingredient appeared to be maize, but it tasted a bit like lemon… and cinnamon. She took another sip. Yes, very different indeed.

The old man started to tell her a bit about the life in the village. He pointed out his wife and children, told her a little how they managed to do magic without wands. At that point, she really wished she had been able to understand his language. He didn't know enough word to tell her more deeply about the theories. She decided to find a book and read about it when she came back to England.

When they were finished with their food almost an hour later, people started to play on the drums and dance. It wasn't the kind of waltzes Hermione had danced before. This seemed to be much more fun. Everyone appeared to be moving like they wanted to the rhythm. Hermione felt happy when she saw them. Happy and warm. Not even realising what she was doing, she stood and joined the dancers. She laughed. Worries didn't seem to exist inside the circle of the small cottages. The fire started to change colour. Somehow, she knew that it was the dance that made it change. She stopped right next to it and stared into the flames. The fire seemed to be whispering. It was very beautiful…

Suddenly, she felt hotter than ever before. Someone came up behind her and pressed his body into her back. She purred and leaned into the body, like a cat. Hands came up on her shoulders and stroke her arms. Two white wedding-rings glistened in fire.

"Hermione…," her husband whispered in her ear. His hand came up to her throat and he kissed her ear and chin.

It was like they had become one. He ripped off her clothes and threw them into the fire. She didn't care. All she cared about was having him in every way possible. Never had she felt pleasure like this before!

Hermione received four orgasms before Voldemort finally climaxed as well. She was sobbing softly over the intensity of the feelings. He fell down on top of her and they were both welcomed into sleep's soothing arms.

xxx

She woke up when she felt something move against her hair. It tickled. Without opening her eyes, she moved her hand to brush the thing away. Her hand came in contract with something soft and… alive. She opened her eyes and saw a big black spider sitting on her shoulder. She screamed and jumped up. The spider fell off her and ran away. Hermione shuddered. Spiders weren't as horrible as serpents, however, she didn't enjoy touching them!

It took her a moment to remember where she was and why she was so cold. The coldness was easiest, she was naked and it was still very early in the morning. Cursing she covered her chest with her arms and sat down. Voldemort was still lying on the ground with an arm over his head.

Slowly the memories came back to her. How she and Voldemort had come to the village, talked and eaten and… then… She blushed and groaned. They had had sex in front of everyone! Sweet Merlin, what made them act so… so…

She suddenly realised something. They were all alone. The native inhabitants had disappeared… and the cottages… and all the small things. The only evidence that it hadn't been a dream was the burnt out firewood next to them, and the ache between her legs. She remembered what the chief had said; they celebrated the end of an era. They must have moved to another location!

Unfortunately, it didn't explain hers and Voldemort's behaviour. She turned toward her husband and decided to wake him up. Perhaps he knew what had happened to them.

When she touched him, something weird happened. She saw herself, standing in a long white dress next to an altar. She knew it was her, even if she couldn't see her face. When she got close, the Hermione in the white dress turned around. The front of the dress was covered in blood. The blood came from an open wound in her throat. The eyes were black and she was grinning like a madwoman.

She gasped and removed her hand from her husband. What had that been about? It had almost looked like dream… everything except her had been fuzzy. She looked down at Voldemort. Could it have been his dream? Or had she been drugged last night? That strange taste in the soup…

Her husband woke up with a groan. He pressed his hand against his forehead as he opened his eyes. He looked straight at her for a moment, then his eyes darkened. "You…"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Uhm… what?"

He sat up and gripped her shoulders. "You drugged me!"

Hermione shook her head. "No! How could I have drugged you?"

He frowned and his grip loosened. "That is true. But how… Oh…" He seemed to become aware of his naked state. His trousers where lying next to him and he stood up and pulled them on. Hermione looked around for her clothes, but she couldn't see them. She had a vague memory of him tossing them into the fire. Damn.

"They are gone," he noticed with a grim look.

Hermione nodded and looked around again. Where was her wand? She knew she had put it in her skirt… was it burned as well? Oh, she hoped not. She stood up as well and went over to the fire. She ignored her naked state as she performed _Accio. _Her wand flew up in her hand from the pile of dust. She exhaled, relieved. For some reason, her wand had made it. The fire had been a magical one. Perhaps that had something to do with their behaviour. She had read about how fire-magic was used in fertility rituals… Oh, Merlin no!

"Do you know how to do a magical pregnancy test?" Hermione asked and turned toward Voldemort.

He frowned at her, but then he looked at the fire, and her wand. He seemed to reach the same conclusion as she, because his eyes suddenly widened.

"They couldn't have…" He waved his wand over her stomach. A white glow appeared over her stomach. "No, you aren't pregnant. Although it could still be too early to see anything. I'll let Snape do the test. Sometimes the parents don't get the right result.

She nodded and her stomach tightened up. She couldn't be pregnant again! It was bad enough that they had one child who would be an outcast thanks to his father, they didn't need another one! Besides, her period wasn't back yet. The healers had said that it may take some time. Many women were infertile during the time they breastfed. However, those women hadn't been in a magical sex-ritual.

Voldemort sighed. "Let's go home. I bet you are starving and your whole body is sour."

Hermione snorted. "I bet you feel the same way."

He simply smirked and placed his arms around her. When he touched her naked back, she heard his voice in her head; _If she is pregnant again, I'll simply have to kill it. Salazar, my cock feels like a big bruise. Perhaps I'll send after some apples. Or pancakes with apples. Not sugar. They must have drugged us last night. I would never have fucked her in front of everyone. I'll find them and kill them. I wonder if she managed to get something good out from the old man. Perhaps Salazar came from this land. No one knows where the ability to speak with serpents came from. Or perhaps I will have pears. No, it's not the season for them…_

Hermione didn't even feel them Apparate. When she could, she pulled away from him, her head was throbbing. Had she just heard her husband's thoughts? How was that possible? He must know how to protect his thoughts.

Her eyes widened when she remembered what the old man had asked; "You wish to know him?" The strange taste in the soup… they had been drugged! Somehow, they had made her "know" Voldemort. Know his thoughts! Oh, Merlin…

"What happened to you?"

Hermione turned from her husband and saw Reya and Snape sitting on the couch, watching the telly. Reya was smirking and Snape looked quite uncomfortable. Remembering her naked state, she groaned and went into the bathroom connected to the bedroom. She sank down on the floor and took a couple of deep breaths. It wasn't so bad… Reya was a woman, and Snape had seen her naked before. It could have been worse. She stood again, deciding to take a shower. She stopped next to the mirror and groaned again. Her hair was a mess, filled with dirt and leaves. She had eight love bites from her neck down over her shoulder and two on her breasts.

Voldemort entered the room with a small smile on his face. "Breakfast, dear?"

Hermione made a grimace. "I think I need a bath."

"So do I." He waved his wand and the tub started to fill up. "Jump in, I'll go and order the breakfast. How about pancakes?"

Hermione froze on her way over to the tub. So she had really heard his thoughts? Oh, Merlin.

"Hermione?" he asked and walked up to her and placed his hand on her naked shoulder. _Is this some side effect of whatever they drugged us with? Merlin, I'm hungry, perhaps I should take some of her milk? Dmitri wouldn't mind, he is still asleep. I could use some sleep as well..._

"Don't touch me!" she pulled away from him. It seemed like she was able to hear his thought when he touched her. She needed to find a way to block that.

He arched his eyebrows and let his arm flop back down to his body. "Did I hurt you last night?"

She shook her head and looked down on the floor.

He tilted his head. "We are going to have a long talk about what happened last night… after breakfast. Get into the tub before the water gets cold."

Silently, she obeyed him. He left the room again. Hermione put her knees under her chin. What was happening to her?

xxx

For the rest of the week, Hermione fled Voldemort's touch like a hurt puppy. Voldemort found this very annoying, but he didn't have time to figure out why she did that. He was busy with the new leads on the Cups. He returned back to the cave every day to try to figure out more about the Cup there. However, he always came back to the hotel frustrated and empty handed. All the cave did was to tell stories about all the things the Cup had managed to do for the people. Things he already knew about from all the other stories about it… or them.

When he wasn't in the cave, he was in the some of the half-forgotten bookshop around Brasília. Or owling his minions in Britain. Or discussing potions with Severus. Since Hermione fled his touch, he spent a couple of nights at the fight-club, getting rid of his anger. He still didn't know what those bastards drugged them with, but other than Hermione's strange behaviour, he hadn't notice anything different.

One night, he came back earlier than he usually did. The full moon was already shining down at him, however, he usually didn't get back before two or three in the morning. He appeared directly into the bathroom. One of the fighters had managed to break his lip and he wasn't keen to remind Hermione that he actually could bleed. After healing his lip and washing away the blood, he left their bathroom. The door from the bedroom to the living room was opened. He stopped when he saw Hermione and Severus sitting close to each other on the couch. Too close. Hermione was basically sitting on the other mans lap and Severus held his hand on her shoulder.

Fury beyond reason took hold of him. He stormed to the cosy couple on the couch and ripped his wife away from her ex-teacher.

"SO THIS IS WAY YOU WON'T LET ME TOUCH YOU?" he roared. "YOU ARE TOO BUSY PLAYING WITH MY MINIONS!"

Her eyes were wide and scared and she didn't seem to be able to form a sentence. He threw her on the armchair and turned to Severus.

"AND YOU!_CRUCIO_!" He put all his power behind the curse. How could they do this to him? He was Lord fucking Voldemort! If there was one wife that was off limit, it was his! And to do it in the room he paid for!

Severus' screams of pain were mixed with Hermione's voice, begging him to stop. He didn't. He would kill the bastard. No one touched what was his! No one!

Something very big and very strong knocked him off his feet. The curse broke and he found himself staring into the jaw of a very big wolf. He stayed still as the wolf growled at him and showed him its big white teeth. Where had it come… Oh, right… full moon. This was the hairy version of Severus' girlfriend.

To aggravate his shame, Hermione came to his rescue.

"Reya, that's enough," she said with a trembling voice and pushed the wolf away from him.

Voldemort sat up and reached for his wand which he had dropped. Unfortunately, Hermione took it instead. Voldemort gave her a murderous look.

"Please, Voldemort. Snape was only comforting me and… I've been feeling so strange lately, so I thought I perhaps was pregnant… but I'm not. Snape did a couple of examinations to be really sure…"

"Stop talking," he hissed.

She stopped immediately. He rose and straightened his robe. He turned to the wolf that was licking the unconscious Severus' face. When Voldemort took a step closer to them, the wolf turned around and growled.

Voldemort stopped. "I know you are able to understand me since Snape brewed you the Wolfsbane potion. So listen closely; you are no longer welcome among us. If I ever see you near my wife again, I'll kill you. Tell your mate that if I see him before I call for him, he will regret it deeply." He turned to his wife. "Get our son, we are leaving."

Hermione had stared at him with her mouth opened. Now she stood and walked over to her former teacher. "He is barely breathing!"

"Now, Hermione," he hissed.

Hermione looked up at him with anger in her eyes. "You can't just treat people like this! What if he dies?"

"That is not really my problem, now is it?"

"Then you can leave without me!"

Voldemort pressed his lips together. "So you chose him over me?"

"I'd rather save a person's life than let you order me around, yes."

His eyes narrowed. "Fine. Let's see how you feel about it when the Contract kicks in because you aren't living with me anymore." He turned around and stalked into the bedroom. With a wave of his hand, he had packed their belongings. Without turning around, he took their son and Apparated away.

He didn't see his wife for the rest of the month.


	24. Chapter 24

Hello readers! New chapter again! Thanks Lady-Gizzy for beating the chapter!

* * *

Chapter 24

Even if Voldemort had promised to kill her, Reya Radcliff was the one brave enough to come to him and tell him what had happened. After he left Brazil, Hermione transported Severus to a wizarding hospital. Then, she returned back to Reya and waited for the morning. Once Reya turned back into a human, the two of them checked out of the hotel and left. As neither of them were wanted, they had decided to take the transatlantic Floo back to England.

Before then, they stopped to eat breakfast at a small Muggle restaurant next to the Brazilian Ministry. When they left the restaurant, a couple of hooded men had grabbed Hermione and drove away with her in a Muggle car. Reya had cast spells after them and been arrested by the Brazil Ministry. It took a week for her to find someone who understood what she was saying. After that, she was released and the Brazilian Aurors had started to search for Hermione. Without results.

Voldemort didn't kill the werewolf, but he did torture her for letting Hermione get kidnapped.

When Reya managed to leave the office, limping and sobbing, Voldemort leaned back in his chair. This would be a good lesson for Hermione. He was the only one who could protect her. If she left him, she would get in trouble. The kidnappers would probably send him a letter with their demands soon enough. He didn't need to worry yet. If they knew anything about trading, they would keep her alive. He didn't think these were some desperate wizards (he was certain they were wizards, otherwise Hermione was strong enough to scare them away even without a wand) who just wanted money. They probably knew whom she was married too and wanted something. This wasn't the first time something like this happened. In the beginning of his career, his "friend" got himself kidnapped. Voldemort had let the fool die. He didn't have friends.

However, he wouldn't let Hermione die. She was the mother of his child after all. He didn't trust the House-Elves to treat Dmitri forever.

With that thought, he returned to his reports. The letter would arrive soon enough.

xxx

Hermione had no idea where she was or who had kidnapped her. They locked her inside a small bedroom with just a bed and a chair and served her food three times every day. It was always a House-Elf who brought the food to her and he never said a word. It didn't take long before Hermione guessed she was some kind of political hostage. If the kidnappers were mere criminals, they wouldn't treat her well. Every day the House-Elf brought her some kind of Muggle novel. It was very nice since it gave her something to focus on. She exercised as well.

However, when she didn't hear anything from anyone after a week, she began to worry. Shouldn't someone come and ask her what she knew about Voldemort? Shouldn't Voldemort come and rescue the mother of his child? Was he still angry with her for not coming with him? Had he sent away Dmitri just as he threatened?

When she couldn't focus on something else, her thoughts travelled to her son. She felt guilty for being away from him. She tried not to think about him often, because it always made her cry. How did he manage without her? He was only two months old and his father wasn't the best. Hermione didn't think Voldemort would mistreat their child, but she already knew he didn't mind neglecting him. What if Voldemort got some brilliant idea and forgot their son? What if Dmitri had to be alone for days? The House-Elves probably took care of him, but it wasn't the same. She was his mother! She could still feel when he needed to be feed. Her breasts were full of milk all the time. What if she couldn't feed him when she got back? Her milk could dry out if her body thought it wasn't necessary anymore. That couldn't happen! He was just two months old! He needed her milk!

She always cried herself to sleep. She was a horrible mother. No better than Voldemort. What had she been thinking taking Snape's side? Her son needed her! For his sake, she shouldn't have argued with Voldemort. No child should have parents who argued all the time. If she had told Voldemort the truth about her new ability, none of this would have happened! But no, she had to put a secret weapon in a stupid war in before her own son!

She was a horrible mother…

As the days passed by, Hermione found herself thinking more and more about Voldemort. What was he doing? Did he miss her? Did he dream about her? She had started to dream about him. Very pleasant dreams where he was acting very gentle and loving. She knew he would never love her, but in her mind (which was clearly going insane with loneliness) he was the prince who came and rescued her.

She didn't think the Order would come and rescue her. They probably didn't know she was missing. Not unless Voldemort told them, but she doubted that. Then again, he had surprised her several times by going to Remus for help. Would it be Remus who came through that door and carried her to freedom?

Hermione was very surprised when she woke up one morning, almost two weeks after her capture and saw Remus Lupin sitting next to her. Her eyes widened.

"Wha… whe… Remus?" She blinked a couple of times, like she wanted to know if she was dreaming or not.

Remus didn't seem happy at all. "Yes, it's me, Hermione. I'm so sorry…"

Hermione frowned. "What do you mean? How did you get here?"

Remus sighed and leaned backwards in the chair. "Before I tell you I just want you to know that I wasn't a part of this. I would never have… I only found out yesterday…"

"Found out what?" Hermione interrupted. She was getting a bad feeling about all of this. "And how do I know you are really Remus Lupin?"

"A couple of months after Ron died; you told me that you didn't think you would ever love again. I told you that you were too young to worry about that and then I showed you how make someone fly over your shoulder."

"Oh…" Hermione couldn't resist smiling at the memory. However, she quickly started to frown again. "And what are you doing here?"

Remus grimaced. "It was Dumbledore's idea. Did you know that your husband refused to break your Contract?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "I thought it was impossible!"

Remus shook his head. "No, not after Voldemort added the part where you have to follow his wishes and not hurt him. It's a paradox, and the Contract can't handle paradoxes. If he wishes you to hurt him, the Contract won't be able to handle it. Dumbledore's theory is that it will burst into flames."

Hermione blinked. "Wow. When did Voldemort refuse to do that?"

Remus shrugged. "Dumbledore didn't say. He just said that Voldemort didn't want to know how to do it."

She stared at her friend. "Okay… what has this got to do with me being kidnapped?"

He grimaced. "We became desperate when Harry killed himself."

Hermione flew up from the bed. "Harry did WHAT?"

"You didn't know?" Remus eyes widened. "He did it the same night you returned with him. I just left him to use the bathroom and when I came back…." He trailed off.

Hermione was too shocked to cry. Harry was dead? Just like that? He was Harry fucking Potter! He never died! That was his thing!

"Anyway… we became desperate. Dumbledore thought you would be our only chance to get rid of Voldemort now. Severus sent a message that you had all gone to Brazil. Dumbledore and a couple of others went there. They found you and… they waited for an opportunity."

"So you kidnapped me?" Hermione sank down on the bed again and stared at him in disbelief. "I guess I can understand why you did it. If Harry is dead… but why did you leave me alone for two weeks? Don't you know that I have a son who needs me? Why didn't you tell me your plans before? I could have taken Dmitri and…"

"Hermione," he put up a hand to stop her rambling. "We… no, they didn't think they could trust you."

She blinked. "What?"

Remus waved his wand and a bunch of newspapers appeared next to her on the bed. "Ever since you did that interview with Rita Skeeter, the paper has been full off… well, I know its lies but…"

Hermione stared down at the front page on one of the newspapers. It was dated to a couple of days after she did the interview. _The Dark Lady tells us the truth – "He is not so bad!"_There was a picture of her under the title. It seemed to have been taken during the time she and Reya were in Paris. She was carrying a lot of shopping bags and was smiling at something. Who had taken this picture?

She looked through the newspapers. They all had pictures of her and the titles were very misleading. "_The Dark Lady's maternal love", "Why I decided to change side."_

"It's like you are both stars," Remus mumbled. "You and Voldemort. Everyone wants to know everything about you. Skeeter has tried to reach me ever since she learnt I was there the night Dmitri was born."

She kept staring down on the newspaper. In the latest issue, there was a picture of Voldemort and her together. Someone must have taken it during the feast at the Malfoys. He was holding a firm grip around her as they danced over the white floor. Since the photo was moving, she sometimes saw his face. Her heart ached. Why was she missing_ him?_

"Even members of the Order are having doubts," Remus said with a sigh. "And those who do think you have betrayed us... you should hear Moody…"

Hermione pressed her lips together. "What do you think?"

Remus stood from the chair and put his arms around her as he sank down next to her. "I don't think you have betrayed anyone, Hermione. However, I don't think you would kill your husband even if you got the chance."

She gulped. Remus was right. She didn't think she would be able to kill Voldemort. For some reason, she didn't think he would kill her either…

"So what are we doing now?" she asked.

"We have to kill him, Hermione. He can't keep this up. The Death Eaters are already outnumbering us one to ten. You are the only one who he trusts."

She snorted. "He doesn't trust me."

"Well, he let you get close to him," Remus reminded her.

"I couldn't kill him even if I wanted to," she reminded him.

"No, not you… but someone who looked like you." Remus stood up again.

Hermione frowned and looked at him. In his hand he was holding some of her hair which must have fallen down on the bed earlier. She blinked.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Remus mumbled and left.

She stared after him. Why had he taken her hair? What was he… the answer hit her. Polyjuice Potion.

xxx

Voldemort was staring at the ceiling over his bed. He couldn't sleep. It was too quiet. He had become used to Hermione's presence next to him. How she used to sound and move when she was asleep. How he sometimes woke up with her curled up against him. Where was she now? Did someone else come to her bed?

The thought made him angry. If someone raped her, he would cut off the son of a bitch's cock as he fucked him with a burning iron! No one touched his wife!

He turned around to his right and saw the empty spot where Hermione used to be. It was not that he missed her… he just wanted her to be there. The last time they shagged had been amazing. Something had felt different after that. Not just the fact that she seemed to be scared of his touch, but something inside of him. It was bothersome and still… he wanted to be with her. He wanted to take her again and again and when they were too tired to even move, he wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms. Why did he feel that way?

Frustrated, he turned to his back. His hand wandered down to his semi-erect cock. It was like he was a teenager again. Wanking off while thinking about a girl. However, back then, it had just been the thought of some random good-looking woman. Now, he thought about his wife. She wasn't ugly, but she wasn't what you would call good-looking. Quite plain, actually. The only thing he thought was beautiful on her was her hands and her neck. He liked how she would stroke his chest while they were having sex. How her neck felt under his lips… other than that, she was very plain.

So why did he have a raging erection at the thought of her bloody neck?

Fisting his cock, he started to stroke it furiously. That little chit made him feel young and horny again. It wouldn't be so bad if she was there; however, she had managed to get herself kidnapped! He would make her pay once she came back!

Thinking of different ways to punish and pleasure her, he brought himself to an orgasm. Panting, he flicked his wand and the waste seed disappeared from the blanket. He closed his eyes and fell asleep. When he woke up again, he didn't feel very relaxed at all.

However, he was the Dark Lord and the world needed him, so he rolled out of bed with a yawn. He went over to his son and removed the silencing spell from him.

Dmitri was awake and when he saw his father, he let out a scream of sorrow. Voldemort sighed and lifted the baby up. "I presume you need a new nappy?"

The child continued to scream.

"We have to teach you some manners." He carried the baby to the bathroom and with a few flick of his wand, he had changed the nappy.

The child was still screaming.

"What have I told you about all the screaming?" Voldemort asked his son as he rocked him. "If you continue to scream, I'll feed you to my snakes. They, at least, know how to behave."

It was probably more the rocking than the threats that did it, but the child stopped screaming. He only whimpered a little.

"That's better," Voldemort praised him. "You are just like your mother. When, and if, you get older, I'll tell you how to best treat women. They are very tricky…"

He went back to the room with the baby and found Antonin there.

"My Lord." Antonin bowed. "You wished to be informed immediately if we received news about your wife."

"And?" Voldemort replaced the baby in the crib.

"We have found her."

Why did his heart speed up? "Good. Lead me to her. Where did you find her?"

Voldemort followed Antonin out through the door.

"Snape found her," Antonin muttered. "I think he is expecting a reward."

Voldemort arched his eyebrows. Severus found her? That was interesting. They walked to Severus' room. Voldemort opened the door and found the Potion Master next to Hermione. Voldemort couldn't help but sigh when he saw his wife. She looked like someone who had fought her way through hell. Severus was giving her some potion, probably healing potion.

"Leave us," Voldemort ordered.

Both Severus and Antonin bowed and left. Voldemort went up to the bed. Hermione's face was like a big bruise. She was thinner than he remembered as well. He sighed again before he sat down next to her. She whimpered when he took her hand. She didn't try to remove it. He frowned. She hadn't let him touch her before…

"What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know," her voice was hoarse, barley more than a whisper. "They… They did things… I managed to escape, but… If it wasn't for Snape..." She started to cry.

Voldemort hushed her and stroked her hair. Something felt wrong. Her hair was bushy again. Like she had never got it fixed. Had "they" done this? Why?

"I missed you," she whispered.

He frowned again. She missed him? Well, he was sure she could, he had missed her after all. However, why didn't she demand to see Dmitri? She was always so awfully protective about him.

"Severus," he called. If the Death Eaters knew what was good for them, they were still standing outside the door.

Severus entered. "My Lord."

"Have you examined her?" he asked.

"Yes, there's nothing mortally wrong with her. With a little rest and some potions, she will be as good as new," Severus answered.

"No concussions?"

"Oh, yes, but with some rest…"

Voldemort looked up at Snape with a frown. Something wasn't right here. The younger man seemed a bit nervous and…

The moment Voldemort turned his attention away from the girl; she pulled out a knife and made an attempt to stab him in his heart. His reflexes saved him and the knife sank into his stomach instead. He gasped in pain, but didn't let it control him. Instead, he took a grip of her neck and strangled her. The moment the girl stopped breathing, he was certain she wasn't Hermione. His Hermione would never try to kill him.

"Severus," he hissed. He was bleeding a lot and he felt a bit dizzy. "Heal me."

The Potions Master stepped into view with a bottle in his hand. "This will fix it."

Voldemort took the bottle and was about to drink it when he thought of something. "Where did you find this imposter?"

"In Hogsmeade. I think she was trying to get to Hogwarts."

"I see," Voldemort sniffed the bottle. He frowned when he realised that this wasn't a healing potion. This was poison. He could clearly smell the belladonna which was very toxic. Why would Severus give this to him? He was one of his closest minions! "It's interesting that you would put belladonna in a healing-potion, Severus."

"New recipe," Severus muttered. Voldemort couldn't sense the lie. Although, he knew he was lying. If Severus could lie about this, what else had he been lying about?

Voldemort decided to better be safe than sorry. "_Stupify_."

Severus fell down on the floor with a surprised look on his face. Grimacing, Voldemort stood from the bed. He slowly made his way to the potions. Could Severus actually have been a part of a plan to kill him? Since Voldemort was paranoid of nature, it didn't surprise him. However, he felt hurt. He had to be sure.

Finding the true healing-potion, Voldemort swallowed it. The wound in his stomach healed immediately and he sighed in relief. He turned back to the unconscious Severus and sat down next to him. Then he went into the other man's mind. He was surprised of what he found in there. It seemed that Severus had been neglecting to tell him a lot of things.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed when he discovered whom it was that had kidnapped his wife. Well, this was just too much. Dumbledore would pay for this. No one kidnapped Lord Voldemort's wife and lived!

xxx

Hermione was sitting on the floor when she got a new visitor. Dumbledore. Her eyes grew cold when she saw him. Dumbledore hesitated at the door, then went inside and locked it.

"Hello, Hermione," Dumbledore said and conjured up two comfortable armchairs. "Please, have a seat."

She stared at the chair, then crossed her arms, refusing to sit.

The old headmaster sighed. "I can understand if you hate me at the moment…"

"Hate you?" Hermione asked. "No, I hated my husband. I despise you."

He sighed again. "I did what I thought necessary. Voldemort is becoming too powerful."

"I don't care about that!" she snarled. "Don't you know that I have a two month old son?"

"Hermione, please…"

"No! I don't care. Just let me get back to my son!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Dumbledore said with a sad face. "We can't let Voldemort continue his regime. Too many have already died…"

"I TELL YOU I DON'T CARE!" she screamed, then took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Let me go back to my son and husband."

"Hermione, please listen. You have become a very important player in this war. Thanks to you, Voldemort now has more followers than we never thought was possible. You have also become the most important person to him. He will do almost anything to get you back and we have taken advantage of that," Dumbledore explained. "It's nothing personal."

Hermione groaned. "You have already sent the imposter to him."

"Yes. I expect her back any moment now. His death will be quick, Hermione. He doesn't deserve it; however, we can't risk him breaking free again."

"You don't think my husband will know the different between me and someone else?" Hermione asked. She had thought about it when Remus left with her hair. Voldemort knew her. He wouldn't let anyone trick him. Would he?

Dumbledore sighed. "We can only hope. Killing him through you hasn't worked in the past, but…"

"What?" she interrupted. "When did you try to kill him in the past?"

"Just a couple of times. Do you remember the necklace?" he asked.

Hermione nodded.

"It held a powerful curse. If someone steals the necklace from its carrier, he will die. When you removed it yourself, the curse disappeared. However, it would still have worked for calming, if you had needed it."

Her eyes narrowed. "When was the second time?"

The old headmaster smiled sadly. "I believe the twins gave you a Christmas present that would help you with your husband?"

She nodded slowly. "I never used it."

"We are aware of that. The potion contains a very powerful poison. However, since you didn't know that, you would have been able to give it to Voldemort and he would have died." Dumbledore was smiling a little.

Hermione walked over to the bed. "What if I had taken it? Was that a risk you were willing to take?"

Dumbledore rose from the armchair. "Yes. Do try to remember that it isn't anything personal, Hermione. We are in a war, after all. That was why I tried to make Voldemort angry with you by telling him you have told someone about the Cup. I had hoped you would be more eager to help us."

She sank down on the bed with her hands under her head. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Wars really make people inhuman."

"Perhaps. When Madame Hooch comes back from the mission, I will let you go free. But I must warn you that the son of Lord Voldemort will never be welcomed once the father is gone. Remus and I will help you, but don't except help from many others."

Hermione closed her eyes and heard Dumbledore leave. She had a very hard decision to make.


	25. Chapter 25

Hello! New chapter all ready! It's only because I'm going on a small skiing-trip with my family tomorrow and I don't want you to a whole week because I don't have internet! That's how friendly I am *smirk*.

Anyway, I got a lot of reviews for the latest chapter! Thank you so much! However, since so many of them weren't members, I couldn't answer them. Although, since you all had the same question (or remark, really), I thought I could answer it here!

**About Dumbledore and the Order**; They are not evil, per se. But the thing about war is that there is never a "good" side. And as Remus tries to explain to Hermione, they are desperate. They want Voldemort to die and she is the best way to achieve that!

And after that short message, own with the show!

Oh, and beware of the **smut**! If you don't like it, skip the end of this chapter!

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Chapter 25

Voldemort dismissed Antonin and started to pace Severus' room. The imposter on the bed turned back to her real body. Voldemort recognised her as a teacher from Hogwarts… Honks? Hooks? Ah, it didn't matter. When his plan was completed he aimed his wand at Severus again. You really couldn't trust anyone. And now, Severus would pay for his unfaithfulness. When Voldemort was done, he locked Severus inside the room and left. He would need some sleep before he set his plan in motion.

After dusk, Voldemort woke up again. He ordered Lolly to take care of Dmitri and went back to Severus' room. When he got there he saw Miss Radcliff standing outside. When she heard him, she turned around with a frightened look on her face.

Voldemort crossed his arms. "I thought I told you that you weren't welcomed here anymore."

Miss Radcliff twisted her long red hair around her fingers. "I… Severus and I decided to have dinner, but he never showed up…"

Voldemort came closer to the werewolf. She reached for her wand, but he captured her hands and pushed her against the wall with his other hand around her throat. Not suffocating her, just showing her that he could.

"Did you kill him?" she whispered. Her eyes were big and frightened.

"Not yet," he said with an unpleasant smile. "So if you want to say your goodbyes to him…?"

She nodded. He smirked and removed her wand before he let go of her. Then he opened the door to Severus' room and let her in. Miss Radcliff gasped when she saw her broken lover on the floor. His skin was bluish and he had dried blood under his nose. He was barley breathing. The werewolf began to cry as she desperately tried to wake him up. Voldemort heard a lot of "honey", "I love you" and "don't leave me". He didn't care. He went over to the potions and found what he was looking for. Polyjuice. Dumbledore would get a taste of his own medicine.

He went over to the couple on the floor, snatched some of Severus' hair and put it in the bottle.

"Can't you help him?" Miss Radcliff asked.

Voldemort looked down at her. "Did you know your boyfriend betrayed me? He tried to have me killed!"

She looked at him with big pleading eyes.

He snorted. "Why do you want him anyway? He isn't rich, handsome or powerful."

She blinked. "He makes me feel like I am someone!"

Voldemort shook his head. "Pathetic. Well, you have a couple of hours left with him. Enjoy."

He left and locked the door behind him again. He still had her wand so she wouldn't be able to leave. Now it was time to put his plan in motion.

After he had swallowed the Polyjuice he rearranged his clothes (Severus was thinner than him) and Apparated to Hogsmeade. Ignoring the inhabitants of the small village, Voldemort ran all the way to Hogwarts. Dumbledore, the wife-kidnapping bastard, was standing in the entrance hall when Voldemort hurried inside.

"Headmaster," Voldemort said in his best imitation of Snape. "I need to talk to you at once, it's urgent."

Dumbledore beckoned Voldemort to follow him up to his office. As they went, Voldemort wiped the sweat from his forehead. Severus was in quite good shape, although his body wasn't as strong as Voldemort. And the hair was just annoying! Couldn't he at least put it up in a ponytail?

They entered the Headmaster's office and Dumbledore made a gesture for Voldemort to sit down.

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, clearly worried.

Voldemort took a couple of deep breaths. "The Dark Lord almost fell for the disguise, however… he must have noticed something. Hooch tried to stab him, but he was too fast. She is dead, Albus."

Dumbledore placed a hand over his eyes and sighed. "How did you manage to flee?"

"He was furious; I have never seen anything like it. When Hooch turned back to her normal self, he figured out you had taken his wife and… he is coming, Albus. He said he would gather all his Death Eaters and come here to kill you." Voldemort could see the wheels spinning in the other man's head. He leaned back in the armchair and pretended to be worried.

"I'll have to call the Order," Dumbledore finally said. "How much time do you think we have?"

"An hour at most," Voldemort said gravely. "They will be arriving to Hogsmeade."

Dumbledore nodded. "We should put Mrs Riddle on the front line, if he sees her, he may reconsider…"

Voldemort had to force himself not to attack the old man right there and then. No one, except him, was allowed to treat his wife like a mere pawn!

"Or, you could lock her up in this castle, that way, he won't dare to attack. He won't risk hurting her," Voldemort suggested. "You could tell him she is Polyjuiced so any student he or his Death Eaters are hurting could be her!"

"Excellent plan, Severus. Bring the Polyjuice here as soon as you can. I'll be right back with Mrs Riddle," Dumbledore said, quickly stood and disappeared through the fire.

Voldemort smirked after him and looked around in the room. Now was the time to search for the book where Dumbledore had found his information about the Cups.

xxx

Hermione was practising wandless magic to open the door when it suddenly opened. For a moment she thought she had actually succeeded, then she saw Dumbledore standing there. He didn't look happy at all. He actually looked quite mad.

Hermione felt smug. "So… the plan failed?"

With a flick of the old man's wand, Hermione found herself bound and blindfolded. She started to ask a question, but he gripped her arm and dragged her out of the room. Hermione stumbled after him. They only walked for a minute before she felt the sensation of being moved through a Floo. What was going on? Had Voldemort found her and was Dumbledore trying to get her away?

They stepped out from the fire and Hermione stumbled over something soft. She let out a yelp when she fell down on the floor.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Hermione froze. That sounded like Snape. Was Snape trying to kill her? No… she was still alive. Was Snape trying to kill Dumbledore?

Lying as still as she possible could, Hermione heard more spells being cast. It sounded like Snape and Dumbledore were duelling. Things were smashed. Hermione felt something hard hit her back. Probably a book. She cursed and wondered is she should try to crawl away. It sounded like the men were busy, perhaps she could escape? She slowly started to crawl away toward the fire. If she managed to get to the wall, perhaps she could find something sharp and get rid of the bonds.

She heard more things break. The wizards were probably casting silent spells now. She could still hear breakings and some whooshing sounds. What was going on? There was a bright light and if Hermione hadn't worn the blindfold, she was certain she would have been blinded. There was a loud thump and then nothing.

"Dumbledore?" she asked, trying to localise a sound, although there was none. "Hello?"

Footsteps. Someone was walking toward her. She recognised those footsteps. In the next moment, someone lifted her up and kissed her. Hermione felt like the whole world stopped spinning. The kiss was so intense and passionate that she didn't know if she would cry or laugh. She could also hear thoughts. Not as strongly as she could almost a month before, but they were there; _My wife. I will never let her leave again. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!_

Hermione could feel the tears begin to run down from underneath the blindfold. He pressed his body against hers and untied her. Hermione's hands flew up to his head and… she noticed that something was wrong. Since when did Voldemort have long hair?

He seemed to notice it, because he let go of her. When she opened her eyes, she was quite shocked to see her ex-teacher standing there. "What…" Then it hit her. He must have figured out that Snape was a spy and was now pretending to be him.

"Wife," Voldemort-pretending-to-be-Snape said.

"Voldemort," she said with a smile. Then she became worried. "Why are you rescuing me? Did something happen to Dmitri?"

Voldemort chuckled and his hand came up to her cheek. "Dmitri is fine, my dear. But you belong with us, that is why I rescued you."

Hermione smiled again and placed a hand on his chest. "I know you missed me."

He scowled, which suited the Potions Masters face perfectly. However, the Polyjuice was loosing its effects and his hair was staring to shrink.

"It's okay," she said and stroked his chest. It began to widen under her touch. "I missed you too."

He embraced her and she could feel his whole body return to its normal shape. "I know you did. Let's go home."

Hermione was about to say yes, when she remembered Dumbledore. She broke free from her husband's embrace. She saw the old headmaster's head lying about three feet away from his body.

"Oh," she sighed.

Voldemort placed a hand on her head. "Oh, indeed."

"So that's it?" Hermione asked, not really certain how she should feel about the death of a man she had grown to despise. "You won?"

Voldemort chuckled and hugged her from behind. "Well, the Order is quite screwed. Give me a month or two and the Ministry will officially stop hunting me and my Death Eaters."

She played with her fingers over his hand. Thoughts and plans about who he had left to kill crossed over to her. She wasn't overwhelmed with them, though. It seemed like those Occlumency sessions she had forced herself to practise had paid off. Now she could block him out so he was just a background noise.

"What will you do now?" she asked.

He lifted her up. "Now, you are going to take care of your son and I'll deal with some things. Then, I'm going to reclaim my wife. Sometime after that we are going to search for the Cups."

Hermione looked up in his face. His red eyes were looking down at her with a soft glow. A thought crossed over to her; _You will be with me forever. _She sighed. Yes. She would be with him forever. However, she would be damned if she let him control her. Their relationship would probably be a very interesting one.

He carried her through the fire and they entered their own bedroom. Hermione realised she had missed it as well. A small whine came from the crib at the end of the bed. Hermione got down from Voldemort's arms and hurried over to her son. She lifted him up and squeezed the poor baby.

"I'm home now, honey," she whispered and felt some tears escape her eyes. "Mummy is home."

"I believe he wants some real food," Voldemort mused.

Trembling a little, Hermione sat down on the bed and opened her robe. Merlin, she hoped she was still able to give breast milk. She would never forgive herself if she couldn't. Thankfully, the milk started to flow the moment Dmitri began to suck. It must be the magic of her body.

"I have some things to deal with." Her husband came up to her and gave her a small kiss. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be back as soon as I can."

She nodded and slowly moved on the bed so she could sit more comfortably. She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes as Dmitri continued to eat. She was home.

xxx

Voldemort was so happy he almost danced on his way to Snape's room. His wife was back and he had killed the last great threat against him. Oh, happy day! However, he was the Dark Lord and dancing down the corridors wasn't something he did. Instead, he walked with grace and an evil smirk on his face.

He reached the Potions Masters room and unlocked the door. When he went inside, he noticed that a few things had changed. The corpse of the teacher had been moved somewhere and Severus was now lying on the bed. Miss Radcliff had washed him and was now slowly combing his hair.

Voldemort frowned. "Is he dead?"

Miss Radcliff nodded.

"How?" he was a bit disappointed. He had planned to celebrate with his Death Eaters and use what was left of the Potions Master as a game. It was to show them all what happened if they betrayed him.

"I killed him," the werewolf said. "I have heard what you do to traitors. At least he is at peace now."

Voldemort blinked. "You killed your own lover?"

She looked up at him. She had been crying. "It was the only thing I could do."

Voldemort crossed his arms. Should he let the werewolf take the traitors place? No, perhaps not. If Hermione heard about that, he was sure she wouldn't stay happy for too long. And an angry Hermione meant no sex.

"You have one hour to leave the country," he said. "If I see you again… well, you know what I'll do."

She nodded and bent down to kiss Severus one last time. "Will you keep Hermione and the toddler safe?"

"Why do you care?" he asked and watched as she picked up a small bag from the floor. She had probably raided all the good potions from Severus.

"Hermione is the only one who has been really kind to me."

Voldemort smirked. "Yes, she does tend to care about the hopeless cases. I heard she tried to free House-Elves once."

Miss Radcliff shrugged. "I should have ripped your throat off when I had the chance."

"_Crucio_." He cursed her with her own wand. When he was done, he threw the wand at her. "I believe you only have fifty minutes left."

The werewolf winced and he left her there. It was time to notify his Death Eaters about their latest victory. They would start to celebrate and Voldemort could sneak back to his room for some celebration of his own.

He summoned all his Death Eaters, and as he had expected, they took the news with a cheer. He stayed for almost half an hour because everyone wanted to congratulate him for his success. Normally, he would have liked it. However, now he only wished to get back to Hermione. When Lucius arrived and acknowledged that the entertainment for the night was ready, the Death Eaters left Voldemort alone and he could finally leave.

Hermione wasn't in the room when he came back. He grew cold. Then he heard the toilet flush and he relaxed. He entered the bathroom and found the girl washing her hands. For some reason, she wasn't wearing anything but her underwear.

"Didn't I tell you not to leave?" he asked.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Dmitri spat all over my robe, and then I needed to use the bathroom."

Voldemort came up to her and put his arms around her. "Shall we take a bath, then?"

She smiled, but then her appearance changed and she became serious. "We need to talk."

He kissed her hand. "We can talk in the bathtub."

"But I…" He pulled her over to the bathtub. With a swish of his wand, it was filled with hot water. "Voldemort!"

"Yes, dear?" He removed their clothes with another swish and then made her enter the tub. He sat down with her against his chest.

"If you hadn't just rescued me from the Order and reunited me with my son, I would be very angry with you," she said. She didn't try to move away from him, but he could feel her tense up.

"Why is that?" he asked and moved his hands over her stomach. It felt so good to feel her again.

"Why didn't you tell me Harry killed himself?" she asked.

Voldemort sighed. He wanted to have a good and hard shag with his wife. Why did women always want to talk about everything? "I warned you he was suicidal."

"You wanted him to kill himself, right?" she asked, turning her head a bit.

"Do we have to talk about this now?" he complained.

"Yes."

He sighed. "Fine. Yes, I wanted him to kill himself because then I wouldn't be blamed."

"So you just drove him to the edge so he could jump?"

"Something like that." He stroked her arms. "Are you sad?"

"Of course I am. He was my best friend since I was eleven." Probably because she wanted to get some frustration out, she pinched him.

Voldemort took her hands in his and sank lower in the tub. "Don't pinch me like that, wife."

She snorted and was quiet for a while. Voldemort was about to bend down and kiss her when she opened her mouth again.

"What will happen to Remus?" she asked.

He sighed. "It depends on him. I don't have to kill him. If you convince him to join us…"

"He would never do that," Hermione mumbled. "Can't you just… leave him alone?"

Voldemort stroked her cheek. "If he leaves us alone, I don't see why not."

She leaned against his touch. "I won't let you kill him."

Voldemort had to bit back a laugh. "Do you think you could stop me?"

"Yes," she said simply.

He chuckled. "We'll see about that… However, I think I know something that will make you feel much better."

He made her lean forward and slowly started to draw circles on her back. She let out a sigh when his thumbs moved over a tense spot. He worked on it slowly. She didn't say a word. His hands moved downwards, parallel with her spine. She moaned softly. With his fingertips, he followed the lines of her hipbones. She was a bit thinner than she had been before. It made him angry to know the Order hadn't treated her well. Good thing he had killed Dumbledore.

His hand came up to her stomach. He rearranged their positions so she was sitting in his lap again. They both moaned when their genitals touched each other. She gently rubbed her pussy against his erect cock. His fingertips danced over her stomach and up to her breasts. He caressed the underside of them before he softly pinched her nipples. She let out a gasp. He moved her hair so he could kiss her neck. She was hot underneath his lips. Deciding to leave his mark, he sucked her tender skin and she moaned again.

Her small hand came down to his cock and she teased the head with her index finger. He shivered when she stroked the underside of it. He placed his hand over hers and made her stroke his member harder. She let out a whimper and he knew she was ready for the finale. Determined, he removed her hand and entered her pussy with one hard stroke. She moaned when he started to push in and out of her and rub her clit at the same time. She turned her head and he managed to capture her lips.

His head felt blissfully empty. All he knew was the feeling of her warm cave. He had dreamt about this and he was sure she had as well. She was supposed to be with him forever. He would never let her leave him again. Somehow, he would make sure she never left. She belonged to him. Always.

She came with a scream. He quickly followed. She fell back against him, sobbing. He closed his eyes and smiled. The water was almost cold, so he heated it up with a wave of his hand. She cried softly against his chest. He stroked her stomach.

"Why are you crying?" he finally asked.

She didn't answer.

"Hermione, when I ask a question, I want an answer."

"Prick," she muttered and took a couple of deep breaths. "It was just… intense."

Voldemort smiled. "Yes, I am."

She snorted. Dmitri started to cry from the bedroom. They both sighed.

"I'll get him," she said and made an attempt to rise from the bathtub.

He gripped her wrist. "Lolly can take him."

"I have been without him for two weeks. I need to take him," she said and broke free.

Voldemort sighed, but let her go. She would only be angry if he didn't let her go and that would ruin the cuddling anyway.

Wait.

Had he just thought that he wanted to cuddle with her?

Yes. He had. He wanted to cuddle with his wife. He groaned and raised form the bathtub as well. Hermione had already disappeared into the bedroom. Voldemort picked up a towel and started to dry himself. Since when did he like cuddling with Hermione? It must be because she had been away from him so long. Yes, that must be it. He didn't like to cuddle, he just… just…

He didn't know what, but he was sure it was something. It would probably disappear soon enough.


	26. Chapter 26

New chapter! Yay me! And Yay Lady-Gizzy for betaing! And YAY SNOW! I love it soooooo much and I wish I lived in the north so I could have it for months! Oh, well, here you have the chapter! Thank you all for reviewing! I love them all even if I can't really response to those of you who aren't members. But I'm glad you enjoy the story anyway!

And to the person who left quite a long review but didn't leave a name; I'm glad you like the story, but you seem to have read the first part of the last chapter too fast. Just because Voldemort threw the Avada Kedavra at Dumbledore doesn't mean it actually hit him. Dumbledore is, despite his age, capable of ducking and jumping to the side. Then there was a small duel and then Voldemort decided to cut his head off!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 26

Now when Hermione was with Voldemort and Dmitri again, things went back to normal. Or, as normal it could be when you were living with the Dark Lord. Since Dumbledore's death, things had begun to change in the wizarding world. Voldemort wasn't slow to take advantage of it. Hermione didn't know what he did, even with her secret ability to see into his mind. He only came back to the room to sleep and have sex with her. She didn't complain. Some would think she should be angry with him for killing one of her best friends. However, Hermione was only relieved to be back with her son. Besides, Voldemort was always killing someone. At least Harry was at peace. She knew he was. If there was a heaven, he and Ron were probably there right now, playing Quidditch with James Potter and Sirius Black. Hermione missed them, but truth to be told, she didn't miss them as much as she had missed Dmitri.

It was the end of April and spring was at its peak. Dmitri had begun to put everything he touched in his mouth so Hermione tried to keep an eye on him all the time. He had already put Besch in his mouth twice. Since Besch was very poisonous, Hermione was afraid she would bite the child. Nevertheless, Hermione didn't want to spend all her time in her room. She conjured up a carrying bed so she could take Dmitri with her when she went somewhere.

One morning, she decided to pay a visit to the Discipline Room for a workout. She didn't like to have her child around the Death Eaters, but if they knew what was good for them, they would leave him alone. Dmitri smiled and made small noises when Hermione explained for him what they were about to do.

"Don't be so cute," she ordered with a smile. "The Death Eaters don't deserve it."

Dmitri let out a small giggle-noise. Hermione smiled at him and took the Floo down to the room. There were only around ten others there. They looked up when she passed them, but soon got back to what they were doing. Hermione placed Dmitri's crib on a bench and began to warm-up, yoga style. She was in the middle of a sun salutation when she heard someone approach.

"Hi!" It was Max Lestrange.

Hermione changed to the lotus position. "Hi! I haven't seen you for so long!"

Max sank down to the floor. "I know. I guess you have been busy… being kidnapped and all."

She snorted. "Don't remind me. How have you been?" When she asked, she took a closer look at him. He seemed to be very well. His hair was still long, but he had put it up in a ponytail. His dark blue eyes were smiling, just like his mouth. Hermione felt herself lighten up immediately. Not that she had been angry, before. Max only made her happier.

"Good, good. A bit busy with the twins, but you knows how it can be. How about you?"

"I have my son back, so I can't complain."

He looked at the child's bed. "Ah, yes. Dmitri, right? He is… what? Three months old?"

"He will be next week." Hermione reached over to the child's bed and lifted up the baby. "Say hello to Max, honey."

The baby blew a bubble of spit. Max began to laugh. "Cute."

Hermione stroked her son's head. "Yes, he is."

"Can I hold him?" Max asked.

Hermione hesitated. Max was nice, but did he know how to hold a baby? Hermione snorted at her own silliness. Of course he could! Carefully, she gave the baby to him.

Dmitri whimpered a little when he left his mother's arms. Max shushed him and the baby fell quiet. Hermione watched them with a smile on her face. Max was rocking him slowly and he seemed to be such a natural with children.

"Sometimes I can't wait to become a father as well," he said and smiled down at the small boy.

"Really? How old are you?" Hermione asked, a bit surprised. She didn't have many manly friends anymore, but she had always thought that young men didn't want to have children.

"Twenty-four this summer. I know it's a bit early, but I always loved to take care of the younger children at the orphanage."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You grew up on an orphanage? I had no idea…"

Max shrugged. "It was okay. My mum was declared a madcap when I was two. I visited her sometimes, but she passed away the year before I got into Durmstrang."

"Were you never taken into a foster home?" Hermione asked.

"A couple of times. But since I knew my real mother, I had a hard time bonding with the families," Max said in a normal voice. He didn't seem to be so sad about his childhood.

Hermione looked around in the room again and spotted two men watching them. One of them reminded her of Max and she guessed it was his father.

"When did you meet your real father?" she wondered.

"The year I graduated. I figured he was a wizard and I knew mum had been travelling around in Great Britain before I was born. I came here and was ambushed by some Death Eaters. When Rabastan saw me, he saved me. He took care of me and urged me to leave. But I stayed and... well, here I am." Max made a gesture with his free hand.

"Were you never mad at him for what he did to your mother?" Hermione asked with a frown.

Max frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well… wasn't he the one who made your mother crazy?" Hermione asked.

Max laughed. "No, he loved her. She was just sick."

Hermione looked up at the man who was Max's father again. He was fighting with another wizard. He appeared so hard. Could he really have loved a Muggle?

"I bet my husband wasn't happy when he found out you existed?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Don't know if he cared. My aunt and uncle were furious, thought. And few of the Death Eaters have never accepted me. That's why I'm working with Fred and George. They saw how good I was with magical objects and employed me."

Hermione was about to ask how things were with Fred and George when the fire turned green and Voldemort stepped through. She saw how his eye narrowed when he spotted her and Max together. She quickly took Dmitri back from Max.

Voldemort came over to them. "Wife."

"Husband," Hermione answered with a raised eyebrow.

Max quickly stood and bowed. She also saw how Rabastan Lestrange hurried over to them. Hermione placed Dmitri in the crib before she rose as well. The room had suddenly become tensed.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her in a low voice.

"I just came down here to work out. Max came over and we began to talk," she explained with a shrug. It was no big deal after all.

Voldemort looked from her to Max and then back at her. "I see."

Hermione wasn't sure what he was seeing, however, she had the feeling he would do something Dark Lordish if she didn't stop him. Fortunately, she knew exactly which bottom to press.

She placed a hand on his arm. His thought was like a whisper in her head. He wasn't angry, only annoyed. She knew what to do. "If you want to, you and I can go back to our room and do some other… exercise."

He began to smirk and the whole room seemed to relax. He stroked her cheek with his index finger. "You can't get enough of me, can you?"

Hermione realised he knew what she was doing and was now trying to humiliate her. She rolled her eyes. "No, I can't. So perhaps we should try something different?"

Voldemort arched his eyebrows. "What do you have in mind?"

"A fight."

"A fight?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He leaned in closer to her and whispered in her ear. "We can't hurt each other."

"I know," she said, just as low. "That's why we'll use shields so neither of us can get seriously injured."

He took a step back and smiled. "Very well. What kind of fight do you have in mind? Wands?" He rolled his wand between his fingers.

She smiled. Max and Rabastan had taken a couple of steps back. The other Death Eaters seemed to notice that something was about to happen. They cleared the floor and went to stand at the walls.

"No wands. But we could use wandless magic mixed with martial arts," she said and placed her wand on the bench next to Dmitri's crib.

Voldemort's eyes shone. "That could be interesting." He removed his robe and shoes. Hermione noticed that he was wearing a standard workout clothes underneath. He was probably not wearing any underpants…

She shook her head at the silly thought and tied her hair up. She wanted to be able to see everything. She was already wearing fighting clothes. Voldemort waved his wand over both of them before he placed it next to hers. Hermione could feel the shield activate.

"No kicks to the head," he mumbled softly. "The shield is strong, but the head is very valuable."

She simply nodded and followed him to the middle of the room. The Death Eaters were watching them with interest. Hermione didn't really care; she was only seeing her husband. His smile had disappeared and he seemed to watch her just as carefully as she was watching him. He was slowly rubbing his fingertips against each other. Suddenly, he threw a handful of blue fire at her. Hermione jumped to her side and felt the fire fly right next to her arm before it disappeared. She wondered where he learned that trick, but had to jump again when he threw another handful of fire at her. She tried to paralyze him with a Wandless spell, but it only made him stumble.

He laughed. "Are you still sure you want to be doing this, Hermione? I know you have been practising your Wandless magic, but I wouldn't bet on you in a fight. Especially not against myself."

Hermione ignored his comment and used the power of the wind to try to make him fall. He stumbled backwards, but quickly regained control over the wind around him. Hermione made a grimace and let go of the spell. It was time for some direct contact. She aimed a kick at her husband's belly. He managed to push her foot away but she quickly fisted her hand and hit the nerve in his arm. Voldemort let out a small gasp.

Before she had time to feel victorious, he gave her a small push backwards. Hermione stumbled, and would have made it, if he hadn't put his foot between her legs. She fell down and landed on her arse. She cursed.

"Really, Hermione. I will never know where you have learnt such words," Voldemort said with a mocking smile.

With all the power she could muster, Hermione used her legs to kick his. He fell down as well. She threw herself over him and nailed him to the ground.

"Well, well, aren't you eager to get on top of me?" he mumbled with a smile.

She smiled back at him. Some Death Eaters chuckled. Voldemort made a weak attempt to get his hands free. Hermione just arched an eyebrow.

"I must say I expected more for Lord Voldemort," she taunted.

His eyes hardened a bit, but his smile remained. "You want more, dear?" He fisted his hands and Hermione felt like someone took a grip around her waist and dragged her up in the air. She let out a small shriek in surprise.

Voldemort rose. She was floating in the air almost seven feet above the floor. Her head was spinning a bit. She wasn't very fond of highs and Voldemort knew that! She tried to reach him so she could strangle him. He just laughed and captured her hands. Then he leaned toward her and kissed her nose.

"You should not ask for more than you can take, Hermione," he said sweetly.

Hermione tried to move closer to him so she could hit him in some way. He smirked. She growled and managed to get close enough to bite his cheek. He let out a small hiss of pain and let go of the spell that kept her up. She fell down on the ground again and dragged him down with her. She was about to kick him when a Death Eater came up to them.

"My Lord!" She could hear that it was urgent and she stopped her movement. Voldemort quickly changed their position so he was straddling her.

"Oi!" she said. "Not fair!"

"You shouldn't let yourself be distracted," he simply said and looked up at the Death Eater. "What?"

Hermione turned her head in time to see another, female Death Eater come up to them. Hermione had no idea who she was, but obviously Voldemort did. He stood and helped her up as well.

"I think we have to continue this another time, wife. Wait for me in our room."

Hermione blinked and saw how her husband disappeared with the woman. What was that all about? The Death Eaters started with their own training again and Hermione went over to Dmitri. Should she be worried that her husband had just left with another woman? She frowned. Since when was she worried about Voldemort being with other women? He had even promised her he would never be unfaithful!

Sighing, she took her son and decided to go back and shower. It was probably just something about a new prisoner. Or perhaps a new rebel. Whatever it was, Hermione wasn't likely to find out. Unless she shagged the answer out of him.

Snorting at her own thought, she left the Discipline Room with Dmitri.

xxx

Since Voldemort managed to kill Dumbledore and rescue his wife, very little and very much had happened. He was now more popular than ever and in a couple of months he would probably be asked to become minister over the Ministry. However, this didn't feel so important anymore. What he really wanted was to become immortal and in that area, very little had been achieved. He thought the answers on how to use the Cups would be found in the book he stole from Dumbledore. The only problem was that it was written in a code he didn't understand. Both he and Hermione were working on it, but despite their brilliant minds, they simply couldn't understand it!

So he was very happy when he saw Miss Smith, one of his best agents, enter the Discipline Room. She probably had news on his in-laws, and even if that was exciting, he was more eager to ask her to break the code of Hufflepuff's book. He took her to his office.

Miss Smith handed him the file and when he read, he frowned. It seemed like the German Ministry had already dealt with the organisation WFM and was now trying to sort out the mess the Muggles had left. They had kidnapped more than a hundred relatives of Muggle-borns. Half of them were dead, including Hermione's father. However, Miss Smith thought that Mrs Granger could still be alive. They only needed Hermione to confirm it. The victims of the crazy organisation had used all types of torture to see if they could find any magic in the Muggles. Many of the victims had grave mental issues and didn't even remember their own name.

Voldemort sighed as he read. He really hoped Hermione's mother would be fixable. It was bad enough to have a mother-in-law; he didn't want one who was crazy. However, first he needed to tell Hermione all this. She would probably be very sad. He hated to see her sad.

Miss Smith was still standing in front of the table. "I want you to break the code of this book," he said to her. "The faster you do it, the more money you'll earn."

The spy nodded and took Hufflepuff's book. She disappeared from the room and Voldemort stood as well. He needed to tell Hermione. He went back to their room and found her feeding Dmitri. She seemed so happy. He didn't want to ruin the peacefulness they had had since she was kidnapped. Although, she would probably be angrier if she found out he had known her mother could probably be alive and not told her.

At that moment, Hermione looked up at him with a smile. However, she must have seen that something was wrong, because the smile quickly turned into a frown.

"Has something happened?" she asked.

He nodded and went to sit across from her at the table. "Has he nearly finished?" He stroked his son's head.

Hermione's frown deepened. "Yes. Why?"

"I want to talk to you alone," he said calmly. "Join me in the bath when you are done."

She arched an eyebrow. "You want to talk to me in the bathtub? What kind of conversation will it be?"

He didn't smile. "One of a kind, I assure you."

"Fine," she said and rolled her eyes. "Just give me a couple of minutes."

"Of course." He stood and left for the bathroom. While he waited for her, he filled the bathtub with water and put a spell on it so it wouldn't grow cold. He conjured a chair and placed the map about her parents on it. Figuring she would begin to cry when he told her about her father's death, he also put a roll of toilet paper on the chair.

Almost ten minutes later, she entered. He had already undressed and stepped into the tub and gestured for her to do the same. With a wave of her wand, she was naked and could climb into the tub on the opposite side of him. "What is all this about?" she asked.

Voldemort sighed. "Do you remember how I promised to look into your parents disappearing?"

She nodded.

"I sent one of my best agents to find out what had happened to them. She was the woman who interrupted our fight today."

The girl's eyes widened. "And?"

"They were kidnapped by a group of Muggle scientists. These people wanted to find out where magic came from and were very interested in parents of Mudbloods. They found these parents by pretending to be a support group for Muggles with wizard relatives. When your parents were taken, they were placed in a lab somewhere in Germany. I will spare you all the nasty details about what happened to them there, because the Ministry of Germany have managed to capture them. Your father is unfortunately dead. Your mother is presumably still alive."

Hermione was already staring at him with disbelief in her eyes. She didn't say anything for a full minute.

"Is this one of your insane jokes?" she finally asked.

"No."

Hermione closed her eyes. "So you are telling me that my parents were taken by some crazy scientists who wanted to do experiments on them?"

"Yes."

She was quiet again. Then she opened her eyes. "Why?"

Voldemort shrugged. "I guess they wanted to use magic for their own good. Probably as a weapon against others. They also wanted to find a way to block wizards' magic."

"So they… what? Dissected my parents so they could find some magic?" Her voice was trembling.

Voldemort sighed and nodded. She would begin to cry soon, he just knew it.

"And daddy died because of them?" Her voice was getting quite high.

"I'm afraid so." Voldemort leaned forward and placed a hand on her knee. "I can try to kill them in the prison if you want me to."

Hermione began to cry. She threw herself at him and began to hit him with her fists. Voldemort firmly took her wrists and embraced her. She cried against his chest. He slowly stroked her hair and let her cry. Surely she would want to find her mother. He would have to help her with that. Perhaps this was a good opportunity to connect with the people in Germany as well. He could always use more allies.

"We have to find her," Hermione said after she had stopped crying.

"We will. As soon as possible," he promised. "I just have to make sure it's safe, then we will travel to Germany."

She sat up and looked at him with uncertain eyes. "Why are you doing this? What's in it for you?"

Voldemort stroked her cheek. "It can never hurt to show my good side for people in other countries. It will be easier to get allies then." He smiled and stroked her lips with his thumb. "And if I, in the process, make my wife happy, I really have nothing to complain about."

He could see her relax and he pulled her tightly against him. "I do take care of what's mine, Hermione."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I think I'm actually starting to believe you."


	27. Chapter 27

Hello! Here is the new chapter, sorry it took so long! I have had a bit of a problem with this chapter so I'll thank Lyra Aphrodite Moon for helping me with the changes the chapter desperately needed, Ankoku Dezaia for smacking my head, help me with the spelling and tell me to get my lazy arse of the couch and write! And finally thanks to my beta Lady-Gizzy for doing a final spell-check!

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 27

Hermione couldn't sleep. Voldemort was lying next to her with his hand on her stomach. He was snoring lightly and dreaming about fish, for some reason. At the end of the bed, their three month old son lay. As he wasn't making any noises, she guessed he was asleep as well.

She was staring up in the ceiling, thinking about her parents. What was her mother doing now? Was she even alive? Yes, she had to be. Hermione had to keep her hopes up. Her father was dead, but perhaps she could meet her mother again. She wanted that.

Feeling the tears rising in her eyes again, Hermione took a couple of deep breaths. It was her fault her father was dead and her mother captured. If she hadn't been a witch, none of this would have happened! Or, if she had been there for her parents, maybe it wouldn't have happened. Maybe she would have been able to stop them from going to that meeting? Why hadn't she looked after them before?

She remembered the night she found out they had disappeared;

"_You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" Hermione stepped inside Dumbledore's office and found it occupied by three other people; Dumbledore, Tonks and another man._

"_Yes, please have a seat, Miss Granger." Dumbledore made a gesture at the armchair._

_Watching the two others with curious eyes, Hermione sat down in the armchair. It was just before dinner and she hoped this would be quick; she had missed lunch and was quite hungry now._

"_Hi, Hermione," Tonks said with a friendly smile._

_Hermione smiled back at her. "Has something happened?"_

"_I'm afraid it has," Dumbledore said with a grave face. "You remember when I promised a couple of Order members would stand guard outside your parents' house?"_

_Hermione nodded and suddenly felt her stomach clench._

"_Last night, Miss Tonks and Mr Alfred were standing guard. Your parents said they had some sort of meeting and left around six. They never returned. We think they were kidnapped by Death Eaters."_

_It took Hermione, the most brilliant witch her age, a full minute to understand what Dumbledore was saying. She would never see her parents again._

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

Hermione was pulled out from her memory by her husband. He caressed her stomach and moved closer to her. She was surprised to notice that he was actually worried about her. Well, he did have to keep her healthy.

"I can't," she whispered back, not wanting to wake the baby.

Voldemort sighed. "We are going to find your mother tomorrow. It will all go much more smoothly if you have rested."

She turned toward him. "I haven't seen her in three years. She has gone through horrors I can't imagine. What if she isn't my mother any more? What if…"

He shushed her and embraced her. "At least she isn't dead. That's the only irreversible thing. We will be able to heal her."

Hermione let herself be comforted by his words, even if she knew they were lies. There were worse things than death in the world.

Or were they? Hermione closed her eyes and listened to her husband's heartbeats. She had thought marrying Voldemort would be worse than death. That had proved to be wrong. She was actually quite comfortable.

"Where will we take her?" Hermione asked. "I don't want her to go from being locked in some lab to being locked in your cells."

"The Lestrange's have a very comfortable house in Cornwall. It's near a small village and the forest. I can borrow it if Rabastan hasn't sold it. When Bella and Rodolphus were imprisoned, he sold a lot of heirlooms." Voldemort stroked her back. "Should I fetch you a sleeping potion?"

"You are so nice," she whispered. "When did you get so nice?"

Voldemort snorted. "I would rather not have you crying all over me again."

Hermione chuckled.

He was quiet for a while. "Or, we could just have sex."

Now it was her time to snort. "I'm not really in the mood."

"I could help you with that." He teasingly kissed the corner of her mouth.

She let out a small groan, and his lips travelled over her cheek and down to her neck.

"Did you ever miss your mother?" Hermione asked.

Voldemort sighed and she could feel him becoming annoyed. "I never had a mother. How can you miss something you never had?"

"Sorry," she mumbled.

He was thinking about too many things for her to pick up anything. It was a good thing that she now knew how to block his thoughts; otherwise she would have a constant headache. The only thing she couldn't block were his emotions. For a Dark Lord, Voldemort was really emotional. They shifted faster than clouds on a stormy day. Nevertheless, it was nice to know what he was feeling. She felt like she understood him better.

"What was it like?" she asked.

"What was what like?" He was slowly stroking her left breast.

"The orphanage." She had wanted to ask him about it for some time now.

He became annoyed. "I hated it. Why are you so curious all of a sudden?"

"Well, hopefully, you are going to meet my mother soon. Don't you think it would be fair if I found out some things about your childhood?" she asked and became a bit puzzled when his annoyance changed to amusement.

"What do you want to know?" he asked and started to draw circles on her stomach.

"Did you have any adults you looked up to?"

"No. A couple of hags controlled the orphanage. I still despise them, even if they have been dead for a very long time. The only male adult we would meet was the priest. All he told us was how dirty and sinful we were. The best thing we could do was to join the army against the godless Germans. Dumbledore reminded me a lot of him."

Hermione just snorted. Dumbledore had lost all her respect when she found out he was the one who kept her from her son. She didn't know what to feel about his death. So mostly, she didn't think about it at all.

"And they both had a thing for boys," Voldemort added after a while.

Hermione frowned when she felt his dark satisfaction. "What do you mean?"

"Dumbledore was homosexual," he said with a smile. "I think that is why he really hated me. Because I wouldn't go out with him."

Hermione laughed. "Dumbledore wanted to go out with you?"

"Well, who wouldn't?" He kissed her shoulder. "The priest did. But he called it a cleansing for my immortal soul."

"No wonder you are so insane," Hermione muttered and turned to her side. She stroked his hair out from his face. "You had such a horrible childhood."

He was smiling. "Then why don't you kiss me and make it all better?"

She did and felt his happiness and contentment. He was also mocking her silently for falling for the old I-had-an-horrible-childhood-please-fuck-me trick. Oh, well. At least he made her feel better.

xxx

The next morning, Voldemort woke up first. He quickly dressed and left for his office. He was after all wanted in the whole world so he couldn't just walk into a Ministry like that. A good thing was that the president of the German Ministry had to help him. If the president tried to arrest him, Voldemort could just show the world exactly what had happened to a certain young maiden in the '70s. That was some serious Dark Arts.

When he had made sure he wouldn't meet any problems in Germany, he went back to his wife who was awake. She was pacing back and forth and when he came closer, she put her arms around him.

"What if she is dead?" she whispered into his chest.

"She won't be," he promised, not sure why he was so certain.

They left about half an hour later and arrived in Berlin by portkey. If the president of Germany knew what was good for him, he would have someone waiting for them by the Berliner Dom. Luckily for the president, a witch was waiting for them.

"Mr Riddle," the woman said with a heavy accent. "Please come with me."

Hermione gripped his hand as they walked down to a subway. He let her hold him. She seemed nervous and he found it amusing that she would go to him for support. That meant she trusted him, which was good.

The woman led them through a door which read _Personnel Only _in German. He wasn't surprised to discover the Ministry behind it. It was much like the one in England, magically enlarged and a lot of witches and wizards hurrying here and there. No one gave them more then one look. Voldemort had put a glamour over his eyes and both he and Hermione were dressed in casual robes.

They met the president on the second floor which was said to be a special hospital for Muggles who had been affected by magic.

"Mr Riddle," the president said. Voldemort could feel how sweaty and nervous the man was when he shook his hand. Voldemort wasn't impressed at all. "These are the victims of the WFM. Horrible story, simply horrible."

They were lead into a big hospital room with ten beds occupied by patients. Hermione looked around. "She isn't here."

The president led them to the next room, but once again Hermione couldn't see her mother. He could feel how she started to become desperate. Voldemort tired to calm her down, although he didn't really know how to do it. However, when they reached the fourth room, Hermione gasped and ran to one of the beds. In it sat a quite thin woman with long brown hair like Hermione's. They looked a little like each other, even if the older woman seemed quite sick.

"Mother?" Hermione asked, trembling. Voldemort went to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Mum, it's me, Hermione."

The woman simply stared at her with empty eyes. Voldemort could feel his wife tense. She was about to cry. Oh, Merlin not again. He spun around and faced the president.

"Haven't you done anything to help her?" he hissed.

The president blanched. "We are working on it. A nurse is in another room, trying out a new potion. It has been said to work on most things, but we aren't sure."

"Well, let me look at it so I can decide," Voldemort ordered and glared at the man.

"Well, you have to understand that this is a national treasure, you can't just…" Voldemort interrupted him with a do-I-have-to-threaten-you-look.

The other man hurried away. Hermione was trying to talk to her mother, but the woman simply continued to stare at her. It only took a moment for the president to come back with a nurse. Voldemort blinked when he saw what the nurse was carrying. It was a big stone cup. Even at a distance, Voldemort could feel it's magic.

"The potion from this goblet has helped other victims," the president explained proudly as the nurse went to Mrs Granger's side.

He could hear Hermione gasp when she saw it. She must have reached the same conclusion as he had done. How in Salazar's name had it ended up here? And more importantly, how would he be able to take it with him?

"Is that…?" Hermione whispered to him.

He nodded and stared as the nurse let Hermione's mum drink from the Cup. Once she drank from it, she shut her eyes and fell down in the bed.

"This has happened to the others as well," the nurse explained. "In just a minute, she should be back to normal."

He could see Hermione holding her breath as they waited. He counted the seconds in his head. If this worked, this was indeed the Cup and he would have to have it. If he called his Death Eaters, they could fight their way out of here.

Fifty-seven seconds later, Mrs Granger opened her eyes. She looked around, confused, until her eyes landed on her daughter.

"Hermione?" she asked with wonder in her voice.

Hermione let out a small squeal and hugged her mother. Voldemort was convinced. This was the Cup. He called for his Death Eaters.

"She will have to sleep now," the nurse said kindly to Hermione. "After that, all her memories should be back again."

Just then, Mrs Granger yawned. "It feels like I haven't seen you in years, Hermione." Another yawn. "You are so big." She fell asleep.

Voldemort acted quickly. "I'll transport her back to our home then." He waved his wand over his mother-in-law's body and it disappeared. Hermione seemed to be ready to complain, but he stopped her with a look. He didn't want to worry about Hermione's mother when the fighting began.

"And I'll take that," he continued and snatched the Cup from the nurse's hand.

The president seemed upset. "What do you think you are doing, Mr Riddle? I welcome you to my country and you steal from me?"

Voldemort arched an eyebrow. "Is it really stealing when you take something someone else has already stolen?"

"We didn't steal that!" the president exclaimed. "We found it in the possession of Grindelwald! When he was defeated, it was our duty to take care of his things!"

"And is my duty to take it from you," Voldemort explained, shrank the Cup and put it in his pocket as his Death Eaters started to Apparate into the room. Too bad he couldn't Disapparate. They seemed to have a block on that in these rooms.

Suddenly, the nurse blew in a whistle and guards who seemed to be armed with both wands and some sort of gun started to enter the room. It took only moments before the fighting began.

He was very surprised to see that even Hermione seemed to be a part of the fight. However, she didn't do worse than stunning her opponent. At least he didn't have to worry about her. He quickly disposed of three guards, but more seemed to be coming. He screamed to his Death Eaters to move the fight toward the exit. Once they were in the main hall, they would be able to Apparate.

Suddenly, Hermione screamed. Voldemort automatically turned toward her. She was still standing, but she was looking at something in the other end of the room. Voldemort didn't have time to see what it was, because one of the guards took the opportunity to shoot him. Since Voldemort hadn't focused on his shield, the bullet hit his shoulder. He stumbled backwards. How dared they use Muggle weapons in a wizard-fight? Have they no honour? Furiously, he lifted his wand to kill the insolent guard.

Nothing happened.

Oh, it was one of those guns. He had heard about them. The bullet held a poison that blocked the ability to use magic.

And now Voldemort was in a fight without magic.

Shit.

Instead of becoming scared, he became angry. Very, very angry. With a fury that even surprised himself, he jumped at the guard who had shot him and broke his neck with his bare hands. Then he used the guard as a shield against a spell from another guard.

In less than one minute, Voldemort had killed seven guards in various ways. Who said you needed a wand when you could murder someone with a strike to the neck? Or by poking someone's eyes out? Or by kicking them in the back?

Although, when he didn't have anyone else to fight, Voldemort's last powers disappeared and he sank down on the floor. He forced himself not to black-out, but he had no idea how he would survive this. They were finally at the main hall, but he didn't have the power to Apparate. The German guards seemed to have become weakened, but it was only a matter of time before they would have gathered more people to fight them. They had to leave now! Nevertheless, he couldn't show his weakness to his Death Eaters. What if they turned against him as Snape had done? That wouldn't be good at all.

"My Lord?" That was Rowle. He was one of them who might try to kill him if he thought he stood a chance. Voldemort needed to get up. He needed to show them that he wasn't weak. They would take him down if he didn't. They would betray him. They would…

"Oh, Merlin!" Hermione was suddenly next to him. She placed her hand on his and gasped. Why did he suddenly get the feeling she knew exactly what he thought?

"It's just a scratch, woman," he managed to say.

"But what if it's infected? You can't get up and let it spread. I'll take you home," she said in a non-negotiable voice. "We are leaving!"

The Death Eaters looked at him. Voldemort just wanted to go home.

"You heard my wife," he snarled. "We are leaving."

The Death Eaters who weren't fighting Disapparated at once.

Hermione didn't waste a moment to Apparate them to the Lestrange country house. They had decided during breakfast to go there if they found her mother.

The house was big. Three floors filled with important and unimportant rooms. Voldemort had been there before, but Hermione hadn't. However, she somehow seemed to know where the closest bedroom was. She half-carried him to it and helped him lay down. The moment his head hit the pillow, he allowed himself to fall into a well-deserved black-out.

xxx

With the help of Lolly, Hermione healed her husband. He was unconscious during the whole time and she was thankful for it. She didn't really know what to say to him. He had been so impressive and yet so terrifying when he killed all those guards. She had never seen anything like it. He had been berserk.

When the healing was done, Hermione found herself sitting next to him, stroking his wound. He had been afraid when he realised he couldn't use magic. When Hermione realised he was afraid about what his Death Eaters would do, she had tried to take them away from there as soon as possible. If he died, she would be screwed. Probably literally as well. She didn't want that.

"Lady?" Lolly was back.

Hermione looked at the small creature at the end of the bed. "Yes, Lolly?"

"Lady's mother is moving. Lolly thinks she will wake soon."

Hermione felt her heart speed up. Rose Granger had always been the source of security for Hermione. No one knew Hermione better than her mother and they had been able to share everything. She was the one who comforted Hermione when she was sad. Sang for her when she couldn't sleep. Hugged her when she felt lonely. Made dinner for her when she was hungry. Hermione couldn't have dreamt of a better mother.

Was she ready for meeting her again? She had been so sad when her mother didn't recognise her. What if Rose had forgotten her again? What would Hermione do then?

Deciding to take one thing at the time, Hermione stood and left the room. Her mother was lying in the room next door. With a deep breath to calm herself down, she opened the door. The room was luxurious and yet cosy. Blue and white were the main colours and the furnishings were made of a light material. Rose Granger was laying on a king sized bed with sky-blue sheets. She was groaning and moving around. Hermione conjured a chair and sat down next to the bed. She didn't want to frighten her mother. However, she wanted to be close to her when she woke up.

Rose Granger had always been the strongest woman Hermione knew. She was tougher than most people and very confident. She was never afraid to stand up for the weaker. She had studied law before she decided to try dentistry. Her law school knowledge had been of great use when she and Hugo wanted to open their own practice. She was never late to say if she thought someone did something wrong. Hermione had always admired her.

That was why she was afraid now. Would her mother still be the same after everything she had went through? Or would she be a broken shell, like Harry? Would Hermione spend the next ten years trying to keep her mother alive?

Hermione was pulled out from her thoughts when Rose suddenly sat up. She was panting and looking around wildly.

"Mum?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

Rose turned her head toward her. For a moment she just stared at her. Hermione prepared for the worst.

"Hermione?" Rose asked. "What are you… Where am I?"

Hermione could feel some tears escape her eyes. She took her mother's hand. "You are home now. With me."

Rose seemed to relax. "Oh, honey, why are you crying? Where is your father?" Something foggy went over her eyes. "No… he isn't here anymore, is he?"

Hermione shook her head. They sat in silence for a while. Hermione let her tears run freely. Rose only seemed thoughtful. Perhaps she was still in shock?

"You have grown," Rose finally said.

Hermione nodded.

"How old are you now?"

"Twenty," Hermione said. "I'll be twenty-one in about four and a half months."

"So I have missed three years of your life?" Rose asked and looked at her with a sad smile. "What a horrible mother I am."

Hermione crawled up on the bed and embraced her mother. "No, you aren't. I could have come for your sooner, but I thought you were dead. I left you in that horrible place and…" Hermione began to sob again.

"Oh, honey," Rose whispered. "It feels like it was all a dream. But it wasn't, was it?"

Hermione shook her head against Rose's shoulder.

"What is this place?" Rose asked. "This isn't our home."

"No," Hermione said. "A lot have changed. I have a whole new life now. But before I tell you, are you hungry? I can call our House-Elf… that's a servant… and order some food."

Rose frowned. "Servant? Since when do you have servants?"

"Since she married me."

Both women turned toward the door. Voldemort were standing there with just his pants on and a bandage around his shoulder. When he got their attention, he slowly walked into the room and sat down on the chair Hermione had conjured.

"You shouldn't be up," Hermione said softly. "You need to heal."

He grimaced at her. "I will heal quicker if I don't have to think about it."

Rose was looking at them in confusion. "You are married?"

"Oh," Hermione blushed. "Yes. That is one of the things that has changed. I have a son as well. He is almost three months old."

Rose's eye narrowed. "How did this happen?" she asked sternly.

Hermione couldn't resist smiling. Suddenly, she had her mother back again. This was the mother she remembered.

Voldemort chuckled. "Well, it's a long story."

Rose eyed him from head to toe in an unimpressed way. "Well, does this husband have a name?"

"Oh, sorry, yes, of course," Hermione said. "Rose Granger, this is my husband Lord…"

"Tom Riddle," Voldemort interrupted.

Hermione frowned when Rose and Voldemort shook hands. Why was he calling himself Tom Riddle all of a sudden?

"A Lord? Well, I guess that explains the servants," Rose said and looked at her daughter again. "I want to hear your story later, but right now I'm more interested to know what has happened. The last three years seem to be quite foggy."

"Well, it is my husband… Tom," Hermione tasted the name on her tongue. It didn't suit him. "Who has been searching for you. Or, he employed someone to do it. I don't yet know all the details."

Voldemort nodded. "The reason why Hermione didn't look for your earlier was because she thought the Death Eaters had taken you. I trust you know who they are?"

Ah, so that was why he hadn't used his real name. He didn't want to scare her. It was quite considerate of him. She wondered why he did it.

"Yes," Rose said. "Hermione have told me a little about the war. They follow some insane psychopath who calls himself Voldemort, I think?"

Hermione winced. Voldemort, however, just chuckled and nodded. "Well, I found out that you weren't kidnapped by the Death Eaters. So I began poking around…" He told them what he had managed to find out, but left out how he managed to find it. When he came to the rescue-part he made it sound like they had got help from the government to shut the lab down. When he was done, Rose was crying silently.

"Can we have a real funeral for Hugo?" she asked.

Voldemort nodded. "Of course."

He stood and looked at Hermione.

"Oh, I should go and check on the boy," Hermione said. "Do you think you can handle being on your own for some time?"

Rose smiled a little through the tears. "You don't have to baby sit your own mother, Hermione."

Hermione smiled too. "Right. Just call for Lolly if you need anything. I'll be back soon."

Rose simply nodded and Hermione followed her husband outside and down to a living room.

"Thank you," Hermione mumbled and sank down in one of the overblown green sofas. This room showed very clearly that the house was owned by Slytherins.

"For what?" he asked and sank down next to her.

"For giving my mother back to me. For not telling her about… you."

Voldemort chuckled. "I have heard that a mother-in-law can be quite a pain in the arse if she doesn't like you. And I figured that she will hate me enough for marrying her nineteen-year-old daughter and knocking her up during the first week. She doesn't need to know that I am the Dark Lord as well."

Hermione laughed. "Are you afraid of my mother?"

"Well, I have seen what mothers do for their children if they think they are in trouble. I would like to be able to sleep without having to worry about being murdered," he said in an easy tone. "You should start to think of a story about how we met."

Hermione nodded.

"And," he added. "You should also think about what you should say to me."

Hermione looked up at him. "What should I tell you?"

He looked into her eyes. Now she realised his eyes were so dark red they almost seemed black. Was he angry? She didn't have direct contact with him so she didn't know.

"About how you knew I couldn't use my magic after I was being hit by that bullet. And how you knew I needed to get away from the Death Eaters as soon as possible."

Her eye's widened. "Oh."

Voldemort bent down to kiss her. "I will look forward to hearing your tale." Then he rose and Apparated away. He had clearly got his magic back.

Hermione stared at the point he had disappeared. So he noticed she knew what he was thinking. That wasn't good. Good thing he couldn't kill her when he found out.

xxx

Hermione spent the rest of the evening catching up with her mother. They sat together with Dmitri in Rose's room and Hermione told her some safe stories about Voldemort. It was nice, but Rose started to cry more than Hermione had ever seen her cry before. It was uncomfortable, but at least it showed that Rose still felt something.

Rose finally fell asleep and Hermione went back with her son to hers and Voldemort's room. At least she thought it was hers and Voldemort's room now. Lolly hadn't said anything else and this was the room Voldemort had thought of when he was injured.

Hermione made herself ready for bed and then lay down in it. However, she couldn't sleep. So much had happened during the last twenty-four hours. She had got her mother back and she had seen Voldemort kill people. Would she have nightmares?

She didn't know what time it was, but she was awake when Voldemort came back. He saw her awake, but didn't seem to care. He just lay down and fell asleep. She realised he must be very tired because of his injury. However, with him there, she finally found enough comfort to fall asleep as well.

After a while, she started to dream. _Voldemort was in the dream and they were on a playground. She was swinging a swing and Voldemort was sitting in a sandbox, building a small fort made of sand._

"_If you swing any higher, you are going to fall off," dream-Voldemort said._

_Hermione didn't take his advice. She tried to swing higher and higher. Her hair flew around her face and her head felt so funny. It was uncomfortable and yet exciting. Voldemort stood up and started to jump on his fort._

"_Why are you doing that?" dream-Hermione asked curiously._

_He shrugged and climbed out of__ the sandbox. "It wasn't funny anymore." He went to her and sat on the other swing. Seconds or hours went past. Voldemort managed to swing higher than her._

"_Aren't you afraid of falling off?" dream- Hermione asked him._

"_I never fall!" dream-Voldemort said. "I fly!"_

_And with that, he left the swing and took off into the air. Higher and higher he flew. He seemed to enjoy it. Hermione wanted to try it too. Without a moment of hesitation, she let go on the swing. For a moment, she was actually flying._

_But then she started to fall. She fell and fell and fell and…_

"Uhm…"

Hermione woke up by Voldemort's groans. She sat up and saw her husband tossing and turning in his sleep. When she placed her hand on his arm, she noticed how warm he was. He was sick! She could feel his pain.

"Voldemort?" she asked and carefully stroked his cheek. "What's wrong?"

Voldemort opened his eyes. Even in the darkness she could see that they were black. He was panting and sweating. "It hurts… Merlin, it hurt's so much!"

Hermione's eyes fell on the bandage on his shoulder. A dark red spot had appeared and it was spreading out. She removed it as cautiously as she could. He started to sob. Hermione held back a gasp when she saw the wound under the bandage. The area around the bullet hole was black. She had never seen anything like it before. It was probably an infection. It wasn't her strong side.

"Lolly," she called. Her mind was working furiously. What could she do?

The House-Elf appeared. "Lady?"

"Something is wrong with my husband; do you know anything about infections?"

Lolly shook her head. "Shall Lolly fetch a Healer?"

Since Hermione was still holding her hand on Voldemort, she could feel his fear about calling a Healer. He didn't want people to believe he was weak.

"Not yet. Bring me something so I can clean the wound again," Hermione said.

Lolly disappeared for a moment and then came back with a bottle and a couple of towels and other useful things. Hermione quickly started to work. Voldemort groaned every time she touched his arm.

"W-why don't you use your m-magic, w-witch?" Voldemort asked through clenched teeth after a while. She could hear the pain and humiliation in his voice. He was humiliated to let her see him like this.

"I don't know how!" Hermione complained. "I have never learned how to do things like that!"

"Don't you l-love me enough to t-try?" he mumbled. His eyes were closed again and tears ran from under his eyelashes.

Love him? Hermione stared down at her husband in shock. She didn't love him, did she? Sure, she didn't hate him any longer, although… love? Did he think she loved him? She couldn't feel anything like that in his mind. It was all pain. She felt sick because of his pain. She had to try to heal him even if she had no idea what to do.

Letting her instincts lead her, she placed one hand on top of the wound and the other over his heart.

"_Ammendo_," she whispered. She could feel the magic run through her hands and into his body. Voldemort cried out. His pain was almost unbearable. It couldn't be just the bullet; it had to be something else. Something worse.

The magic continued to flow between them like a steady pulse. It was like fighting darkness with a light. She couldn't see what was hurting him, but she could sense it. It was a toxic. The bullet must have been poisoned. Voldemort was dying.

For some reason, it made Hermione fight harder. She didn't want him to die. He was her husband and that he should remain. She had already lost two families with Harry, Ron and her father. She wouldn't loose her new family. Never.

Her magic was winning against the poison. Slowly, it began to disappear from his body. Voldemort let out a hoarse scream when her magic defeated the last of the poison. Hermione became aware of her own surrounding again. The sun was rising outside their window. She had been healing him for hours.

She reached for the water Lolly had left and drank thirstily. Voldemort had already sunk into unconsciousness. Hermione looked down at him. He was still pale and sweaty, but his breathing came slow and steady. She smiled and lay down, spooning against his side. Voldemort turned in his sleep so he was lying with her back against her. Hermione placed an arm around his waist and fell asleep again.


	28. Chapter 28

Good evening! New chapter for all of my wonderful readers! I hope you like it. And for all of you who are worried this story will be abandoned, you can rest peacefully tonight. I have just finished the story! All it need is some spell-checking from my wonderful new beta Ankoku Dezaia and myself. I'll also need to make sure I haven't forgotten anything... and there will be 34 chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 28

Voldemort awoke slowly. He felt safe, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. If ever. Someone was embracing him from behind. No one had ever done that before, he was sure of it. He was not the kind of person you snuggled with in your sleep. He was…

He was…

He… he didn't remember _who _he was. He didn't _remember_!

"Ouch!" someone said.

He didn't realise he had kicked that someone who was embracing him. He sat up and stared down at her. Yes, a her. His wife. Hermione. They had a son. Dmitri. He remembered that.

Hermione was looking at him with a frown. "Voldemort? You seem terrified, has something happened?"

Voldemort. Yes, it all came back to him now. Lord Voldemort. That was who he was. The Dark Lord. He-who-must-not-be-named. He-who-killed-people-just-because-he-could. The safe and content feeling he had woken up with disappeared. He was never safe and never content. He always wanted more.

"No," he said harshly. "I just… for a moment I didn't remember... it's nothing."

She was still frowning, but she nodded slowly. "And how are you are feeling? I did the best I could on your shoulder, but…"

"My shoulder?" He looked down at his chest and saw a freshly healed wound on his left side. He stared at it for a couple of moments. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" she asked, surprised.

He just glared at her.

"You were shot," she said slowly. "We went to get my mother from the Ministry of Germany and you decided to steal the Cup. There was a fight and you were shot."

The memories came back to him. They were vague, but still there. "Did we manage to receive your mother?" He had to know. He was very embarrassed over the fact that he couldn't remember, but he needed to know.

"Yes, she is sleeping in the room next door." Hermione placed a hand on his. "How are you, really?"

He pushed her hand away. "Why do you always have to ask questions?" he roared. "You never shut up! You are like a fucking parrot!"

She was hurt. He could see it in her eyes. He didn't care, he was scared. Why couldn't he remember what had happened? Something must have happened, something bad. He felt confused and angry. These things didn't happen to him. He was the Dark Lord! He was powerful!

"Perhaps it happened when I healed you," she said in a low voice. "You were dying. It takes a lot of power to heal something like that. Maybe the trauma has affected your memory."

Voldemort took a couple of deep breaths. If he just relaxed, the memories would probably come back to him. They couldn't be gone, just repressed.

"I should check on Dmitri," Hermione mumbled. She was sad, he had hurt her again.

"Hermione, I…" He couldn't apologise. Not with words, it was not his thing. Instead, he took a hold of her wrist and pulled her to him. He kissed her, uncertain and questioning at first, until she sighed and opened her mouth for him.

Since she was still naked, he could caress her body freely. He lay her down with her head at the end of the bed. It didn't take them long to work up the arousal. She kissed him passionately and he realised that she must have been scared as well. He could feel her whole body relax as he pushed into her and she moaned softly. Voldemort held back a gasp, he liked this, it was nice. Hermione met his every stroke and he stimulated her clit with his fingers. They were both getting closer to climax. He shifted his angle a little, and when he did, he opened his eyes.

His eyes widened when he saw someone standing at the door. A middle-aged woman who resembled the one lying under him. She stared at them with wide eyes.

The memories of the night before rushed back to him. How they had found Rose Granger and the Cup. How he had been shot and how Hermione had saved his life.

The woman at the door, Rose, snapped out of her shock and quickly turned away from the room. Voldemort didn't have time to think more about it because his wife, who had continued to move under him, reached her climax and managed to pull him over the edge as well. He collapsed on top of her.

"That was intense," she whispered.

"Yes," he mumbled. He could feel her heartbeats next to his.

They lay there for what seemed like forever. Then, their baby started to scream. They both groaned and Voldemort finally rolled off her. As they stood, Voldemort took his wand to clean himself. Nothing happened. He tried again and felt a small pulse of magic run through him and out of his wand. It wasn't enough to clean him.

Hermione, who had seen his failure, cleaned them both.

"You probably just need a couple of days to recover," she said and came up to him.

Voldemort didn't become angry, although he felt very embarrassed. Hermione, his twenty-year-old wife, had just cleaned him like he was some cripple. Salazar, if his Death Eaters found out… not that they ever would.

He sighed and shook off his depressed thoughts. At least he could feel his magic. He only needed to recover, just like she said.

"I'll prepare some food," he muttered. "Will you take care of Dmitri?"

"Yes, I think he is hungry anyway." She smiled at him. He got the feeling she felt sorry for him.

Annoyed, he stalked off to the kitchen. Merlin, what was wrong with him? He still felt a little like he was asleep. The sex had been soothing and almost felt unreal. Although, he knew it had been real because when he opened the door to the kitchen, he found Rose Granger. Her face turned red when she saw him.

"Tom," she said, looking very uncomfortable. "I thought I would make some breakfast."

He nodded slowly, not certain what he should do so he just sat down next to the big kitchen table. "Please, be my guest. I'll just-"

"I didn't mean to snoop," she interrupted him. "I heard upset voices and… I was afraid…"

Voldemort suddenly wondered what exactly had happened to Rose. She had probably been tortured, perhaps even raped. Of course she would be scared if she thought her daughter was being hurt.

"Rose," he said softly. "I would never hurt Hermione." Well, not so much. "I was annoyed because of my injury and I let it go out on her. I'm afraid I have a bit of a temper in the morning." Or a lot of temper all day long. "What you saw was simply my way of apologising."

Rose smiled sadly. "You must love each other very much."

Voldemort just smiled back. He didn't want to lie about that. Besides, it was hard being nice all the time so perhaps it was best if he just shut up. This Muggle would soon be out of his life and it would be much easier to get rid of her if she didn't think Hermione was in any danger.

"Do you want fried eggs?" Rose asked, trying to sound cheerful.

"Yes, I would like that very much," Voldemort answered honestly.

Hermione chose that moment to enter the room with Dmitri in her arms. She stopped for a moment and just watched as her mother fried the eggs. She seemed both sad and happy at the same time. Voldemort had no idea what she was thinking or feeling. It irked him.

"Oh, hello Hermione," Rose said and smiled a bit uncomfortably. "Do you want an egg as well?"

"Uhm, yes please," Hermione said before she sank down on the chair next to Voldemort. "This place is beautiful."

"Yes, Rodolphus always knew how to decorate a house," Voldemort said and looked around in the kitchen. The walls were white with different painting on them. They all showed some flower in Muggle-style. Rodolphus had been an artist in many ways. Otherwise, the kitchen was big with all the necessary equipment. Lolly had filled the storeroom with food as well.

"Isn't this place yours?" Rose asked as she sat down with the eggs.

Voldemort realised how hungry he was.

"No," Hermione answered. "We live in a small apartment. Vol- Tom wants to be close to work."

"What do you do, then?" Rose asked her daughter and began to eat slowly.

"Nothing yet, we married when I was fresh out from school and when I became pregnant… well, I figured I could find a job once Dmitri was a bit older," Hermione said nonchalantly. Voldemort was impressed by how easy she lied to her mother.

"That seems very much unlike you," Rose said with a frown. "You said to me several times that you had no time for boys because you wanted to have a career first."

Hermione seemed a bit uncomfortable. "Well, things changed. When I met Tom I just knew we would be together forever."

That was true at least. They had both known there was no way out of the Contract when they met the first time, or at least they had thought so.

"How did you meet?" Rose asked and looked at Voldemort. "You couldn't have been in school together."

"Mum!" Hermione said, embarrassed. "Age doesn't matter the same way here as in the Muggle world. We live much longer."

Voldemort smiled. "Besides, Hermione has been gifted with quite an extraordinary intellect. Not many people can keep up with her."

Rose smiled at that. "And I assume you can?"

Voldemort snorted. "I believe it will take some time before she reaches my level."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"But how did you meet?" Rose asked again.

Voldemort and Hermione exchanged a look.

"Well, we bumped into each other a couple of times. At the Ministry, in Hogsmeade and other common places. I knew it was something special about her the moment I saw her."

Hermione smirked at him. "You weren't very nice at first. You were demonstrating how spectacular you were with magic at the Ministry."

Voldemort smirked back. "And you and your friends ruined the whole show. However, it made me realise that I needed improvement." He turned to Rose again. "I knew she was in Hogwarts so I went to Hogsmeade, the village next to it. I had realised that she was very clever and I wanted her opinion on a project I was working on."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, one thing led to another and before I know it, I couldn't see a future without him!"

"Neither could I," he mumbled and took her hand in what he hoped would look like a husband-in-love-gesture.

Rose still seemed a bit suspicious, but in the end she sighed. "That is sweet. I wish I could have been there for the ceremony. Do you have any pictures?"

He could feel how Hermione froze.

"The ceremony wasn't big," he said and turned to Rose. "Perhaps it was a bit impulsive. It was wartime, you don't know how long you have left and you want to make the most of it. We didn't hire a photographer, but I'll see if I can find some photos from a ball we went to a couple of months later."

Rose smiled. "I'd be glad to see them."

xxx

The days flew by and Hermione spent most of them reconnecting with her mother. It was hard since Hermione didn't like to lie and hard because Rose would sometimes would stop talking and just stare out in empty space. She was thinking about her capturing. Hermione hadn't asked her anything about it, mostly because she was afraid of the answer. If it had happened to any other person, Hermione would have been curious. However, it had happened to her mother and Hermione didn't think she would be able to handle the truth. Not yet, anyway.

Voldemort seemed to avoid Rose. He was always away during the day and would come home late and leave just after breakfast. Hermione didn't know what he was doing because he never gave her an opportunity to talk. Instead, she seemed to have become like a drug to him. Every time they were alone, his hands were upon her. Even with her ability to see his thought and emotions, she was confused. All he was thinking about was her and the feeling he felt was lust mixed with obsession and possession. The feelings were so strong it infected her to feel the same thing about him. Their meeting became a struggle for dominance. It was a fight he usually won and he frequently took out his victory by riding her through climax after climax. It was not a bad way of loosing, but it made her feel confused. Why did he feel this way?

He hadn't asked her about how she seemed to know what he was feeling, even if he had threatened to ask her about it the night they had saved her mother. She thought he had forgotten about it. Which was strange all by itself. Voldemort wasn't the kind of person who just forgot about such important things. Although she had to say she was relieved. That was a conversation she didn't look forward to have. She knew Voldemort well enough to know that he wouldn't appreciate her knew ability.

On the day of Dmitri's third month anniversary, Hermione decided to bake a cake. She hadn't really celebrated her son's birth and she thought now would be a good time to celebrate. It was only the third of May, but the sun was shining and the house had a wonderful terrace so Hermione and Rose decided to eat the cake outside. Dmitri was sitting on a blanket while the two women relaxed in the loungers. The terrace was placed next to a small lake which was surrounded by trees. Hermione would never know how someone like Rodolphus Lestrange would get the idea to build such a beautiful house in this beautiful environment. It was simply perfect.

"Do you remember when we rented that small house in France, just next to the ocean when you were four?" Rose asked with a slightly nostalgic voice.

Hermione smiled at the memory. "Yes, dad taught me how to swim that year."

Rose chuckled. "That wasn't swimming, honey. We still had to help you keep your head over the water."

Hermione laughed. This was what they usually talked about; old memories. Somehow, Rose seemed to realise that Hermione didn't want to talk about her new life.

"What is that?" Rose suddenly asked and pointed towards the sky.

Hermione looked up and spotted something black coming toward them from the north. She drew her wand, uncertain if it was a friend or a foe. She didn't have many friends left, but surely a foe would have disguised himself better? When he came closer, Hermione saw that it was a man on a broom. She lowered her wand when she recognised him as Max.

"Hello, ladies!" Max said and jumped off his broom right next to the baby.

"Max!" Hermione said, slightly surprised, but still happy to see him. "What brings you here?"

"Well, this was my uncle's house. My father realised he had forgotten some things here and as the faithful son I am, I offered to fetch them for him," Max said with a charming smile.

Hermione smiled back. "Is that all? You just came here to get the things? So I guess I shouldn't offer you any cake, then?"

Max's eyes became, if possible, even brighter. "Cake? What kind of cake?"

"Chocolate," Hermione answered and laughed at the childlike happiness in his face. She conjured up a third plate, and in the meantime Max introduced himself to Rose.

"You must be Hermione's mother," Max said and held out his hand. "I'm Max Lestrange."

"Rose Granger," Rose said and took his hand with a smile.

Hermione handed Max the plate and he started to eat like he hadn't seen food in days. He reminded her of Ron and her heart ached a little.

"This is awesome, Hermione," Max said and licked his lips. "You are, without a doubt, the best chef ever!"

Hermione simply smiled.

"How do you two know each other," Rose asked curiously. "I don't think you have ever told me about someone named Max. Or is he that Bulgarian boy who took you to that ball?"

"No mum, that was Viktor Krum. Max and I met at a feast last fall. I had a bit of a make-up accident and Max was kind enough to help me," Hermione said with a smile.

Max eyes had widened during her explanation. "You went to a ball with Viktor Krum? The Viktor Krum?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes, he is very friendly. Unfortunately, I haven't seen him in years. Do you like Quidditch?"

"It's hard not to when you work with the Weasley twins," Max said and shrugged. "I just never realised you had such an appetite for famous men."

Hermione glanced at her mother who only seemed amused.

"Famous men?" Rose asked. "I didn't know that."

"It's not because they are famous that I like them," Hermione mumbled. "Besides, it has only been Viktor and my husband."

"Well, and then there was Harry Potter," Max remarked carelessly. "I always thought that was why the Da-"

"Max," Hermione interrupted him. She didn't want her mother to know anything about Voldemort. "Harry and I were never an item. We were only friends."

Max frowned, but nodded slowly. "Okay, sorry. I just… perhaps you should help me find those things?"

"Yes," Hermione stood. "Is it okay if you watch the boy for a while mum?"

Rose nodded and leaned back in the lounger. "You can give me all the time in the world to cuddle with my grandson."

Hermione followed Max inside and to one of the spare bedrooms. It didn't seem to be occupied but when Max opened the closet Hermione saw a couple of robes hanging there.

"I didn't mean to offend you," Max said in a low voice. "I know you and Potter were only friends. I was just teasing."

"Oh, it wasn't that," Hermione quickly assured. "Although, I am a bit tired of hearing about Harry and I being an item."

Max seemed relieved.

Hermione smiled at him. "The reason why I interrupted is because my mum doesn't know about Voldemort. She just thinks he is some high-level wizard. A Lord, like the ones in the Muggle would. I don't want her to know that her daughter is married to… you know." She didn't know what to call Voldemort. Nonetheless, Max seemed to understand.

"I'll keep my mouth shut, I promise," he said with a smile. He picked something up from a drawer in the closet. "There it is."

Hermione came closer and saw that it was a camera. "What is that?"

"My father's favourite camera. Smile!" Hermione didn't have time to smile before he had snapped a photo. She blinked.

"That's it?" she asked.

Max shrank the camera and put it inside his robe. When he withdrew the hand, he was holding a simple white envelope in his hand. "Not really. You see, I got an owl around a week ago. It is from Reya Radcliff."

Hermione's eyes widened. After she had come back from her imprisoning, things had been so confusing. She had known Snape was dead, so she thought Reya just needed some time alone. Hermione had sent her a letter, but hadn't received any reply. Maybe Voldemort had taken it?

"She didn't think the letter would pass your husband's censor, so she sent it to me instead," Max handed her the letter. "I hope you won't tell the Dark Lord I gave it to you. He would probably torture me."

Hermione noticed that the envelope was addressed to Max and that it had already been opened. She removed the letter and began to read.

_Dear Max_

_Please give this to Hermione. I know the Dark Lord will just burn it if I send it directly to her but I want her to know what happened. I know you will read her part of the letter anyway, so let me make it easy for you and say that it's okay. I don't care if you read!_

_Reya._

When Hermione turned the paper, she noticed that it was a Muggle paper. Why was Reya writing on Muggle paper? The answer appeared in the letter.

_Dear Hermione_

_When you read this, I'm probably on the other side of the planet. Your lovely husband said that he would kill me if I didn't leave Great Britain within the hour. I have heard about a werewolf tribe in Australia and I think I will join them. They live more like animals than humans and I don't wish to continue to be human anymore. You see, I killed Severus. I know he would have died anyway and I didn't want your husband to torture and humiliate him even more. So I killed him. I killed the man I loved._

_I miss him more than I can explain and I can only hope that I'll meet him again in the next life. Until then,__ I have decided to give in to my animal side. I'm sorry that I have to leave you, but it's not like I can see you anyway. Not with the Dark Lord around and I know you won't leave him._

_Merlin… I don't know how to finish this letter. It will probably be the last letter I ever write. You would know how to finish it, wouldn't you? You are good with these things. But what I want to say is; don't try to find me and don't be sad. It's nothing wrong with being a werewolf; it's just the transformation that sucks. I will drink the potion that will forever turn me into a wolf and leave my human life behind. Please don't cry._

_With love._

_Reya_

Hermione did cry. She couldn't help it. She could see that Reya's hand had trembled when she wrote this and the text was a bit smeared out here and there, probably from tears. Hermione didn't know why she cried. Perhaps it was because her friend had been sad and she hadn't been able to be there. Or perhaps it was because the Reya she knew was gone now, forever. Hermione would never know if she was happy.

She had sunken down on the floor and Max was hugging her. Hermione cried against his shoulder as he whispered soothing words in her ear. After a while, she finally managed to stop crying. Max still held her and Hermione let herself relax into his arms. It was so different from Voldemort's embraces. He hugged her because he wanted her. Max hugged her because he wanted to make her feel better. Max hugged her like a true friend, like Harry and Ron had hugged her. It made her calm down.

"I can't believe she is gone," Hermione whispered. "I can't believe I didn't know sooner."

"You have had quite a lot to think about," Max murmured into her hair. "With your mother and son. And the Dark Lord, of course."

Hermione started to cry again. "Why does he have to destroy everything? Reya and Snape were lonely for so long. When they finally find each other, he destroys it! How can he do that?"

"I won't say I understand the Dark Lord," Max whispered. "But I don't think he really cares about it."

Hermione lifted her head and looked into Max's deep blue eyes. "Sometimes I don't think he cares about anything."

Max eyes fell down to her lips, he was breathing a little faster. When he looked into her eyes again, they were a bit foggy. Hermione could feel her heart speed up. Surely he wasn't going to…? Yes, he was. Max leaned in and kissed her. A soft, careful kiss. Questioning. Hermione was shocked. She hadn't known Max felt this way about her. Sure, he had teased her and flirted with her, but to actually kiss her?

When she didn't try to push him away, Max deepened the kiss. His hands came up in her hair and his tongue entered her mouth. Now, Hermione reacted. She pushed him away.

"Max! I'm married!" she said a bit angry.

Max was blushing furiously. However, before he had time to apologize, someone else spoke up.

"Took you long enough to remember."


	29. Chapter 29

Hello, hello! I thought it would be better if I update quick this time. Everyone seem to want to know what happens! And I have got so many reviews for the lastest chapter! In total 36! That's a new record for me! I love you!

Now I won't let you wait much longer, enjoy the chapter!

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Chapter 29

"_Took you long enough to remember."_

The words were spoken in a harsh hiss. Hermione spun around just in time to see her husband close and lock the door, his hands shaking when he did it. Hermione stood; it was never good to face an angry Dark Lord sitting on the floor.

"Voldemort…" She didn't know what to say.

"Don't," he said with his eyes on the man on the floor. "Just don't."

Max was no longer blushing, instead his face was white in fear. "M-my Lord."

"Oh, so now you remember as well." Voldemort let out a high, cold laugh. His hands were still trembling and Hermione didn't know if it was from anger or from something else. "When I'm done with you boy, your father will be searching for the pieces of your body for weeks. Unless I kill him too and then no one will care about finding you."

Hermione knew she had to do something fast, or else Max would die. She didn't want anyone else to die because of her.

"It was just a mistake," Hermione said in a low voice. "I was sad and Max just-"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Voldemort turned toward her. His eyes were like a red storm. "If you say one more word, you will also be searching for pieces of your son for the next couple of weeks!"

That made Hermione realise how furious Voldemort was. He had never threatened to kill Dmitri before, to send him away, yes, but never kill him. However, instead of becoming scared like Voldemort surly had intended, she became angry. She went up to him and slapped him. Voldemort became so surprised that he merely blinked at her.

"Don't you dare threaten our son! If you kill him, I swear by any God in the world that I will make you suffer more than you have ever made anyone suffer before!" she screamed.

Voldemort gripped the front of her robe. "Hit me again woman and it will be the last thing you ever do."

She wanted to hit him again. She wanted to rip his throat out and let him bleed to death. However, thanks to the Contract, she couldn't. So what did she do? She kissed him. She kissed him long and hard until she almost fainted because of the lack of oxygen. When she finally let him go, she realised that she was also pressing him against her and that his arms were around her, they were both crying.

"How could you?" Voldemort whispered. "You are mine! You love me! How could you do this?"

There it was again. Hermione's eyes narrowed, why did he think she loved him? Why did he say she loved him? She was certain she had never told him she loved him, not even in the tones of passion. Did she love him? Nevertheless, that was not the problem now. Right now, she needed for him to calm down.

"It was just a mistake," she said and stroked his cheek. "I'll make it up to you."

Voldemort seemed to relax. "Yes, you will."

Hermione relaxed as well and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. Voldemort held her tightly against his body, just like a little boy who had lost and found his dearest teddy bear.

"Why is he even here?" Voldemort suddenly asked.

Hermione realised that this wasn't the best time to start an argument about Reya. "He came to fetch his father's camera."

"Then why were you crying?"

She sighed and turned her head. Max was still frozen in shock. Although, he seemed to try to make himself as small as possible.

"He gave me a letter from Reya," Hermione said as indifferent as she could. If she could make Voldemort believe that it didn't mean anything, perhaps Max wouldn't die because of that.

"I see. So if I don't kill him for the… mistake, I can kill him for being a traitor."

Hermione looked up and into his face. "What is wrong with receiving a letter from Reya? All she said was that I could never see her again!"

Voldemort looked into her eyes. "Is that all Miss Radcliff said? She didn't say why you couldn't see her again?"

Hermione didn't answer, but Voldemort saw the answer in her face. "I thought so. _Crucio_."

Max began to scream and she gasped when she realised that Voldemort had his wand in his hand the whole time. She tried to move it, but he just pushed her away. After a couple of minutes, he broke the curse. Hermione wasn't stupid enough to run to Max and see if he was okay. Voldemort would just take it as an excuse to curse him again. Instead, she turned to her husband and placed both hands on his chest.

"Can't we just go somewhere and talk?" she asked. "It isn't his fault."

Voldemort arched an eyebrow. "Not his fault? Do you mean you were the one to start the kiss?"

Hermione sighed. "No, I didn't mean that. Look, it is not his fault he has feelings for me. You can't curse people because they like someone."

Voldemort looked like he wanted to say that he very much could hurt someone for liking the wrong person, but Hermione didn't give him the opportunity to talk.

"Perhaps it is my fault for making him believe that he could kiss me. Maybe I was too nice, I didn't want him to kiss me! Why would I when I have you?" It wasn't just flattery, it was true. However, flattery always seemed to satisfy Lord Voldemort.

"Let's go to our bedroom," she whispered and hesitated before she added. "I could let you spank me."

Those words made Voldemort smirk. "Believe me, I will. But first I will-"

"No," she said firmly and put her hand over his wand. "You won't kill him."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Hermione…"

"Voldemort, you will not solve any problems by killing him, only create more. Take it out on me instead," Hermione whispered. She wasn't scared, although she did hope Voldemort would go easy on her.

Thankfully, her husband seemed to consider it and after a couple of moments he let his wand down. "Fine, I won't. However, I will make sure he won't be able to talk about this to anyone."

Hermione looked down at Max who had begun to cry, probably out of relief. "Fine."

Voldemort went over to Max and waved his wand over him and mumbled a spell. When he was done, he turned to Hermione again. He looked at her for a couple of moments, then opened the door to the room with his wand and led her out to the terrace. Hermione remembered her mother and for a moment she was worried he would do something. She was relieved when he merely stopped in front of Rose.

"A friend of ours has passed away," Voldemort said in a low voice. "It's her funeral today. We will probably be away for the rest of the day, can you watch Dmitri?

"Oh, of course. Is there anything else I can do?" Rose asked with a concerned look at Hermione.

Voldemort shook his head. "No, thank you. We will see you tomorrow."

He Apparated them away. When Hermione opened her eyes again, they were standing at their former home, the Factory. Voldemort led her straight to their bedroom. He didn't say anything and Hermione began to worry about what he would do. They didn't have any direct contact so she couldn't see into his mind. She knew he couldn't physically harm her and that was a small relief. However, Voldemort knew quite a bit about other types of pain.

When they entered the bedroom, Voldemort locked the door, pushed her down on the bed and tied her hands above her head. Hermione was quite surprised, and funny enough, not scared. She had hurt him and now he would take it out on her. It was better than him killing someone, and he couldn't do anything too bad to her.

"We are going to have a very, very long talk," Voldemort said with a stern voice. "And I wish for you to tell me the whole truth and nothing but the truth during the talk."

Hermione felt the string of magic run through her when he told her his wish. This would be interesting.

"Did you like to kiss that… boy?" he asked. He was standing next to the bed with his arms crossed.

"No," Hermione answered. "It's always nice to know that you are appreciated, however, I didn't like kissing him. It just felt wrong." She rearranged her body so that she was lying with her legs bent; it felt nicer on her back.

"Have you ever wanted to kiss another man?" he asked. His voice was as cold as his eyes.

"You need to be more specific," she said calmly. "Before I married you I wanted to kiss other men, but not afterwards."

"I see. And yet, so many men look at you with lust in their eyes. Haven't you noticed?" He took a step closer.

"No, I can't say I have." She forced herself to stay calm. If she just answered his questions, it would be okay.

"I want to rip their eyes out every time they look at you," he spat. "Your big eyes and petite body, I can see that they want to fuck you. If it weren't for me, you would have been taken by a band of Death Eaters and been raped countless of times before they finally killed you. Some of them would continue even after you were dead. They would cut you open and-"

"I get the picture," she said and fought a wave of nausea.

He nodded. "Good. Not all of them are like that. Some are like Lestrange, they just want a quick shag and a shy good-bye."

"I would never cheat on you," she answered honestly.

He looked down at her a couple of seconds. "Because you love me?"

Hermione blinked. There it was again. Love. "Why do you think I love you?"

He seemed surprised. "You don't love me?"

"I… perhaps I do, I don't know. You are a very difficult man to love. Although, I do feel something for you," she tried to explain, but wasn't certain what she felt. "Why do you think I love you?"

"Because you are a woman, and a Gryffindor and that's what you do! You go around loving people for no real reason at all, why don't you love me?" Was he hurt?

"I don't go around loving people. Love is a very strong emotion. I love our son, my mother and I loved my friends, but that is not the same thing!" she tried to explain, but Voldemort didn't seem to understand. "Look, I didn't say that I didn't love you but love is about trust, compassion and nice feelings. When have we ever shared something like that? Besides when we have sex."

Voldemort just stared at her. "So you don't know if you love me?"

"No, I don't. I have to think about it," she said with a sigh. She did feel something, but was it love?

He continued to stare at her for a couple of moments, then he sighed. "But if you don't love me, how can you stand to live with me?"

Hermione snorted and tried to twist her hands a bit. It was very uncomfortable to be bound. "I guess I have become used to you."

"Is that all?" Now, he sank down on the bed next to her and put a hand on her knee. "You see, I sometimes have the feeling you know exactly what I think and feel. Why is that?"

She opened her mouth to deny it, however, she found she couldn't. Instead, she told him the absolute truth. "I have been able to see into your mind ever since we met the tribe in Brazil and had sex there. I can't control it, so most of the time I try to block your thoughts and only focus on your feelings, which isn't helpful at all since they only make me more confused about you."

Voldemort blinked. "What?"

Hermione swallowed. "I said that…"

He flew up. "I heard what you said! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because you have been a bad influence on me and now I use everything to my advantage."

Voldemort opened his mouth to retort. When no words escaped, he closed it again. After a moment, he placed his hand on her throat. "Do you know what I feel now?"

Yes, she did. Anger, uncertainty and distress were all mixed together. He wanted to kill her for having this advantage over him. In the same time, he wondered how it had happened and if he could use it. Then, he suddenly understood a few things.

"This is how you knew I needed your… help when I had been shot," he said tightly.

"Yes, you thought your Death Eaters would take advantage of it," she answered in a low voice.

He let go of her and stood up again. "I can't believe you would hide this from me."

"I knew you wouldn't like it and I don't like it when you are mad," Hermione murmured. "You tend to do something stupid and hurtful."

Voldemort stopped and placed a hand over his eyes. She watched him as he seemed to think. What was he planning to do?

"I wish for you to sleep until I tell you to wake up," he suddenly ordered.

Hermione felt the tingle of magic and a moment later, she was asleep. It only felt like a couple of seconds had passed before she woke up again. When she did, it was dark outside and she felt a stinging sensation in her shoulder. She turned her head and saw Voldemort sitting in an armchair next to her, drinking tea.

"What did you do?" she asked, sitting up. She noticed that he had untied her hands.

"Well, I followed your wishes and took it out on you," he said and took another sip. "You were right, I feel much better now."

Hermione blinked and lifted her hand to rub her eyes. When she did, she noticed how the stinging in her right shoulder increased. She looked down at it and gasped. From the middle of her upper arm and over her shoulder, there was a brand new tattoo of a snake. Not only that, the snake was made of letters and read _Mrs Riddle_. It was a small piece of art and Hermione would have thought it was quite beautiful if it weren't permanently stuck to her arm.

"What the? Why?" she asked and turned back to Voldemort.

"I thought about writing 'Voldemort', but I figured it would be quite hard to explain to your mother, so I wrote that instead. Since serpents are my trademark, most people will understand it anyway." He took a last sip before he carefully placed the cup on the nightstand. "Don't you like it?"

Hermione just stared at his smug face. "Why didn't you just write 'Property of the Dark Lord' since that is obviously what you wanted?"

He shrugged. "Like I said, it would be difficult to explain to your mother. However, I could write that on your pussy." He smirked.

"Oh, no," she said angrily. "Don't you dare come close to my pussy with your wand!"

Voldemort blinked, then he began to laugh. Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

He nodded and made a last chuckle. "I do, dear."

They were quiet for a while.

"So you forgive me for being kissed by Max?" she finally asked.

He shrugged. "I suppose. However, if I ever see you kiss another man again, I will rip his tongue out and possible some other body parts as well."

A picture of herself kissing Draco Malfoy entered her mind, however, she quickly pushed that thought aside. She didn't hate the annoying ferret that much.

"Although, I do not forgive you for your ability to see into my mind. I will be working on a way to end that as soon as I'm done investigating the Cup," he said.

"How is that going?" she asked and looked around for a robe. She was getting quite cold.

"Not so good. I have no idea what the runes mean. They seem Scandinavian, only something is wrong, they don't mean anything. I think it's a cipher, even if I haven't seen anything like it before. The Cup was made when the written language was still new, but it's too advanced," Voldemort sighed and leaned his head against the back of the chair. "I have someone working on Huffelpuff's book and until I can read that one, well, I assume I will have to wait."

Hermione found her robe on the floor. When she put it over her shoulder, she winced, the tattoo still stung. "Well, that must really annoy you."

"It does," he said and pulled her into her lap. "I despise waiting for something I have wanted for a long time. What ever can I do to make the time go by?" His hand started to wander over her knee.

Hermione realised he was wearing a glove. "Voldemort, why are you wearing a glove?"

He smirked. "You said your ability only worked by direct contact."

She scowled. "You are being silly! I have been able to see into your mind for months and that hasn't killed you!"

He arched his eyebrow. "I'd rather not take any chances."

She sighed, annoyed. "Fine, but how have you planned to keep this up if we can't have any skin-to-skin contact?"

He smiled. "I believe there is a Muggle invention called 'condom' that may be useful for this."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You are unbelievable. Now you remember to put on a condom?"

"Better late then never," he said. "Where are you going?"

Hermione had stood up and was not making her way to the bathroom. "If you don't want to touch me, then I'll just touch myself!"

"Fine, be that way." Voldemort stood as well and she heard that he was irritated now. "Then I'll just go to the prison-cells and entertain myself with our new prisoners!"

Hermione stopped at the door and spun around. "Who?"

Voldemort's face turned into a nasty grin. "Oh, did I forget to tell you? That was why I came back early today. My men found the Orders hiding place. We have them all here now. All of them have been given the choice to join us if they like. For the peace of our marriage, I had planned to let you decide what to be made by those who refuse to join us. However, since you seem to be busy kissing others…"

Hermione stared at him. "What?"

"I just said…"

"I heard what you said," she spat. "They will never join you!"

"On the contrary," he said with a gleam in his eyes. "Some of them already have."

Hermione made her way back to him. "Let me see them."

"I thought you were planning to go and touch yourself?" he mocked.

She really wanted to hit him but that would probably not be such a good idea. "If you kill anymore of my friends…"

"Really, Hermione," he rolled his eyes. "We both know what will happen. You will be mad for a while. Then, you will forgive me for the sake of our son and we will go back to the way things were. Don't try to threaten me, it doesn't work."

Hermione pressed her lips together. He was right, her son meant more to her than her friends. However, this time, she would come up with a solution that didn't kill them.

"Take me to them," she ordered.

Voldemort held out his arm. "Right this way, my Lady."

Hermione frowned at his choice of words. His Lady? As they went down the corridor she realised that was exactly how she would appear to the Order when she came down to see them on his arm. As Lord Voldemort's Lady.


	30. Chapter 30

Yay me! New chapter for you and only three more to go before this adventure is over! Hope you like it! And thank you Ankoku Dezaia for betaing!

Enjoy! Oh, and BEWARE OF THE SMUT!

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Chapter 30

Halfway down to the prison cells, Voldemort stopped his wife and looked down at her with narrowed eyes. Her hair was a mess, she seemed tired and annoyed, plus her robe had stains and wrinkles. It was not a way for Lord Voldemort's wife to look.

"Stand still," he ordered and waved his wand over her robe. It transformed into an ordinary, yet flattering, red dress. Her body had changed a little since the birth of Dmitri and she had more curves now. He liked it, especially liked her tattoo which was now very visible on her shoulder. Now no one would doubt to whom she belonged.

He waved his wand again and her hair was placed in a ponytail. After a moment of consideration, he decided not to try to apply make-up on her. He would probably be able to do it; still, he liked her natural. She looked like herself and he desperately wanted the Order to see that she was still the same, only on a different side. That would hopefully make some of them change side as well. The magical population was low as it was, he didn't want to kill off more magical blood than necessary.

Hermione fingered her ponytail. "What are you doing?"

He looked at her from head to toe again. "Just making you presentable."

She arched her eyebrow. "You just want to tease the Order again, don't you?"

"Well, it's always fun," he said with a smirk and placed his arm around her waist before he continued to walk.

He was actually in a good mood. He had been furious when he saw Hermione and Max together and even more furious when he realised she was able to see into his mind. However, torturing her body in her sleep had been satisfying, even if she hadn't been able to feel a thing. His mark on her body was a mark of his territory. Everyone would know what it meant; _Touch and you'll die_. At least everyone in the magical world.

They entered one of the bigger and more comfortable prison-cells. It looked a little like a low-price hostel with a dozen cheap beds against one wall and at the opposite side of the room, there was door which led to a couple of toilets. The only thing that showed these people were in fact prisoner were the chains on their hands and feet. They could still walk and grab things, but not enough to start a fight.

When he and Hermione entered the room, everyone fell silent. The two Death Eaters who were standing guard right next to the door bowed at him. Four other Death Eaters entered as well. Not that he needed the protection; he just didn't want to encourage the Order members to try anything.

He was about to tell Hermione to go and talk to them when a seventh person entered, Miss Smith. She was wearing a disguise so it took him a moment to recognise her.

"Have you…?" he asked, not wanting to let the other Death Eaters know what Miss Smith had done.

The mute woman nodded and handed him a file. He glanced inside of it and smiled. Yes, she had translated Hufflepuff's book. This was good, very, very good.

"I'm pleased," he said. Hermione looked at them with a frown, but he ignored her. "You deserve a reward. Do you want money or perhaps a servant?" He made a gesture over the room. "Or perhaps a Death Eater?"

Miss Smith looked out over the room with her indifferent eyes. He had never seen her express any feelings at all. However, when her eyes finally stopped, there was a spark of… could if be excitement? He followed her eyes and saw little Miss Weasley sitting on a bed.

"I see," he said, very surprised. It had never occurred to him that Miss Smith had a thing for girls. All he knew was that she had no interest what so ever in his Death Eaters. "Well, I suppose…"

"What?" Hermione seemed to have realised what he was talking about. "You promised me that you would never bother Ginny again!"

Voldemort sighed. "I won't be bothering her, wife. I don't even think Miss Smith will, or will you?" He turned to the spy who shook her head. "See?"

Hermione looked at Miss Smith with a frown. "I will come and visit you sometime and if you have hurt her…"

Miss Smith smiled and nodded, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Good, then it's decided. Why don't you go and fetch your friend, Hermione?" Voldemort asked.

It didn't take long for Hermione to fetch Miss Weasley. The younger girl seemed scared even if she didn't try to fight. Voldemort wondered if it was because she had lost all hope or if she just didn't care what happened to her. Three of her older brothers had already joined him, even if the Weasley twins only agreed to do it if he would stay away from their older brothers. Percy Weasley didn't appeare to have any problems joining the Death Eaters.

"I'll come and visit you soon," Hermione said. "And if anything has happened to you then, I'll free you." She sent an angry glare at her husband.

Miss Weasley just sighed and looked at Miss Smith. When Miss Smith shook the other girl's hand, the red-haired girl seemed very puzzled. Voldemort removed the girl's chains and Miss Smith disappeared with her new… pet? Voldemort sighed, he would never understand that woman.

"Why don't you go around and talk to your friends," Voldemort said to his wife. "I'll be sitting over there, reading." He pointed at the corner of the room.

"What ever," Hermione said. Was she angry because he had just sold her friend? Why? Oh, well, she would probably come around.

She stalked off and Voldemort conjured up an armchair for himself. Soon, he forgot everything else as he read the translation of Huffelpuff's book.

xxx

Hermione stalked away from her husband, angry with him for just giving Ginny away like that. not that Ginny had seemed to care. In fact, most of the prisoners here seemed to be awfully calm. Had Voldemort drugged then with some kind of relaxing-potion? She wouldn't be surprised, and yet… it was not his style to calm down his prisoners. Or was it?

Sighing, she looked around. The other Weasley's weren't here, but she spotted Moody brooding in a corner. Kingsley and Hestia Jones were sitting close to him, watching her with curiosity. A couple of beds away from them, Tonks and another woman with dark brown hair (Hermione couldn't remember her name) were sitting, staring at her with hate in their eyes. Hermione frowned and finally spotted Remus on the bed behind them. She smiled and walked over to him.

Remus looked up when she sat down on the bed next to him. She noticed that his left leg was in a bandage.

"Hello, Hermione," Remus said with a genuine smile. His eyes lingered a moment on her shoulder and she cursed Voldemort and his insane ideas.

"Hi, Remus," she said. "How are you feeling?"

Remus sighed. "What can I say? We've lost the war. I knew it was only a matter of time after Dumbledore died."

"Why haven't they healed your leg?" she asked, not certain what to make of his lack of anger over loosing the war.

"They have, actually. I was bitten by a very big snake. Unfortunately, it takes some time before it can heal. I'm just glad it doesn't hurt anymore," Remus said like he had no problems in the world.

"Have they drugged you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I suppose they have. We were all fairly angry when we came here. Your husband gave us… or rather, forced us, to drink something. It feels like I can see more clearly now."

Hermione sighed and glanced back at Voldemort who had his nose in the file that woman had given him. She wondered what it was.

"He didn't torture you?" she asked.

"Not at all," Remus said. "I was surprised when he didn't. He said that there was no need to do it now when the war was over. He hoped we would join him."

"That was awfully nice of him," Hermione said dryly. "Will you?"

Remus shrugged again. "Some of us already have, or at least promised not to go against him. Fred and George will continue with their joke shop and take orders from the Death Eaters if they want anything. Sturgis made some other agreement and Minerva will continue as a teacher under the Death Eaters rule. None of them actually took the mark. Well, except Percy."

"What about the others? Mrs and Mr Weasley? Hagrid?" Hermione asked.

"They are gone, Hermione," Remus said and placed his hand upon hers. "They died in the fight."

Hermione didn't cry. She had lost count on how many times she had cried because Voldemort killed her friends. There just wasn't anything left to do. She realised she had given into him a long time ago. The thought was a bit disturbing.

"How are you?" Remus asked. "Does he treat you alright?"

She grimaced. "I'm fine, I guess. He helped me find my mother. She is staying with us right now. So I guess he treats me alright." Except when he saw her kissing other boys.

Remus twined his finger into hers. "You know, I always wanted you to be happy. When Ron died, I hoped you would be happy with me. I guess that won't happen now."

Hermione blinked. What? Did Remus just say that he… loved her? How?

"Remus," she said. "Do you…? For how long…? What?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Since you were sixteen. I knew it was wrong but I couldn't help it. You have no idea how beautiful you are. I thought that after you had finished school… but I was too late. I still hate myself for not asking you out sooner. If you hadn't been single maybe Fudge wouldn't have used you."

A life with Remus? Hermione glanced at her husband again. Voldemort was such a big part of her life now. They had Dmitri. What if Dmitri had been hers and Remus' child? He would never put silencing spells around his son, never take away her wand and lock her inside his room.

Although, Remus wouldn't have been able to rescue her mother. He wouldn't take her out looking for lost treasures. Neither would he be able to give her the same pleasure Voldemort could. Remus was too sweet for that.

She sighed again, it was not like she had a choice anyway. However, now when she knew what life with Voldemort was like, she didn't think she would be able to be with someone less… thrilling. Although, she wouldn't complain if Voldemort could stop with the killing and torturing.

"You are so sweet Remus, and if things were different, I probably would have gone out with you," she said and stroked his hand.

Remus sighed too. "I know Hermione. All I want to know now is… are you happy?"

She smiled. "Well, I'm not unhappy. Sometimes I wish…" She glanced at Voldemort. "I wish that he would change. Not completely, only become a little better. He is so clever and… I don't know. But sometimes I am happy."

"Sometimes…" Remus smiled. "Sometimes is good. It would be foolish to wish that someone would be happy all the time."

She nodded. "What will you do now?"

"I have no idea. I can't join them. Not after James, Harry and Sirius… I have nothing left here," he said thoughtfully. "Perhaps if I left the country. Do you think they will let me?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll make them let you."

"Thank you." He leaned forward and held out his arms. Hermione let him embrace her and closed her eyes for a moment. Remus still made her feel safe.

"Hermione!" Of course Voldemort didn't think that was a good thing.

She let go of Remus and looked up at her husband who now stood right next to the bed with narrowed eyes.

"What?" she asked. "I was just saying goodbye to Remus."

"Really?" He didn't seem to believe her.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood. "You are unbelievable sometimes."

Voldemort was about to retort when Tonks and the other woman walked up behind him, their chains rustled as they moved.

"Excuse me," Tonks said.

Voldemort turned toward her with a slightly surprised face. "Yes?"

"We have been wondering for quite some time now about why you are still married to _her_?" the other woman asked. Hermione tried to remember her name. She was certain she had seen her at an Order meeting once.

Voldemort blinked at them. "I have no idea how that has anything to do with you."

"Surely _you _could do better!" The woman exclaimed. Was it Emilia?

Hermione's eyes narrowed. What did these women have against her? She looked down at Remus who was holding a hand over his temple and sighing.

Voldemort turned to Hermione. "Do you know these women, dear?"

"Well, I know Tonks, but…" Hermione stepped up to his side and looked at the other woman. "I'm sorry; I can't recall your name."

"Emma Meryweather!" The woman said. "I was a prefect when you started Hogwarts, not that you would notice me. I'm not famous."

"What has that have to do with anything?" Hermione asked and stared at them in incredulity.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Tonks said. "Everyone knows that you have a thing for famous men. First Harry and Krum and now…" She made a gesture at Voldemort.

Hermione tried to be reasonable. They had just lost the war, of course they were upset. "I do not have a thing for famous men. Harry and I were never together and Krum was the one who asked me out! Voldemort and I were forced to marry!"

Meryweather looked at Voldemort. "You could do better."

"Are you applying for the job?" Hermione snapped. She could be reasonable, but not when people talked about her over her head.

The brunette gave her a very superior look. "I'm certain I would do it better."

Hermione was about to give an angry retort when Voldemort opened his mouth. "You are certain you would do a better job?"

The woman looked a little taken aback. She looked from Voldemort to Hermione, then back to Voldemort and let her eyes wander down his body. Hermione felt a sting of jealousy and wanted to hit the woman.

"Yes," she finally said. "Everyone knows that Granger is only a bookworm."

Voldemort chuckled. It was one of his evil chuckles. "Johnson."

On of the Death Eaters at the door came toward them. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties with an ugly scar across his cheek. He was big and not in a beautiful way. When he reached Voldemort, he bowed.

"Miss Meryweather here claims to be 'better' than my wife. I'm not certain I know in which area she means. Why don't you test her in those areas you believe a wife should be good at? I'm certain you will be able to give a satisfying report in a couple of weeks," Voldemort said in a light tone.

The shock on Meryweather's face was almost laughable. Hermione would have laughed if she hadn't understood exactly what would happen to the poor woman. She almost objected, but then she saw Voldemort's face and knew it was no use. He was angry with the woman.

Once Johnson had disappeared with his new prisoner, Voldemort lead Hermione out from the room. Neither Tonks nor Remus had dared to say anything. They too realised what would happen to Meryweather and they didn't want to join her.

"That was unnecessary," Hermione mumbled when they was out in the corridor.

In a matter of seconds, Voldemort had pinned her to the wall. "You are my wife, Hermione. If someone thinks little of you, they indirectly think little of me. I can't have that. Do you understand?"

She nodded carefully and he let go of her.

"Besides," he said. "There is nothing wrong with being a bookworm."

Hermione just smiled at that.

They came back to their bedroom and Voldemort sat down on the sofa and gestured for her to do the same thing. As she did, he removed the file from his robe.

"What is that?" she asked and moved closer to him to see the papers.

"This is the translation of Hufflepuff's book," Voldemort said with awe in his voice.

Hermione almost ripped the file from his hands. "What does it say?"

"Easy, Hermione," he said and brushed her hands away. "I have only read the first couple of pages and they describe what she does with the Cup. It's… more than I thought was possible. She made the mountains do her will when she built Hogwarts."

"She? Single-handed?" Hermione skimmed through the text.

"Apparently. These Cups seem to hold power over all life. It created Gods!" Voldemort flipped through the pages, more excited than Hermione had ever seen him before.

"How does it work?" she wanted to know.

He just shook his head. "I don't know yet. Let me finish reading."

"I want to read too!" She didn't mean to sound so whiny, although, she really wanted to know what it said.

"You can suck my cock while I read," Voldemort said, his eyes not leaving the text. Then he stopped and looked up. "Did I just say that out loud?"

Hermione stared at him. "The part about me giving you a blowjob? Yes, you did. Why?"

He blinked. Then he blushed. The Dark Lord blushed. Not much, but it was noticeable. Hermione smiled at him and he scowled.

"Can I help that I sometimes become a little too… enthusiastic when I discover something big? Why can't you just be like any other wife and get down on your knees and please your husband when he wants you to?" He was trying to hide his embarrassment by pretending to be angry at her. Hermione didn't let it affect her.

"I very much doubt every other wives do that to her husband, however, if you let me read, I'll probably be very… enthusiastic as well," she smirked at him.

He stared at her, then he smirked as well. "Oh? Tell me Hermione, did you ever masturbate in the library at Hogwarts?"

"No… I waited until I came back to my room." She blushed a little when she said that. She had never told anyone before. "Did you?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes was burning. "Which books made you the hottest?"

"Those I learned something knew in. Mostly Transfiguration since it is so complex and takes such a long time to understand and…" Voldemort kissed her. Actually, he attacked her with his mouth first. Hermione felt lightheaded. She had always thought she was the only one who could become horny by learning new things. It never happened in the classroom, only when she was alone and learning something new and complicated. Perhaps it was the happiness of succeeding to understand something she had worked on for a long time that made her react in such a way. To know that Voldemort reacted in the same way… well, it explained a lot. It also made her feel more connected to him, to know that he was a nerd, just like her.

And Miss Meryweather thought bookworms were boring.

Voldemort made short process of her clothes before he opened his robe. He mumbled something and with a fast movement, he pushed into her. She groaned, he felt bigger than usual for some reason. It actually hurt a bit. However, when his hand found its way down to her clit and started to rub it, the pain was quickly forgotten. She sucked on his tongue and bucked. In the next moment, she climaxed and Voldemort wasn't late to follow.

"Well, that was interesting," Hermione said when she came down from her orgasm.

Voldemort stroked his nose against her cheek and began to chuckle. Then it turned into a full-blown laugh.

"What?" she asked while running her fingertips over his chest.

"Nothing," he said, still chuckling. "Or, well, don't you think it's funny?"

"What is?" she asked with a smile on her face. His chuckle was continuous.

"This morning, I was absolutely furious with you and now… well, now I'm not," he touched her new tattoo. "It suits you."

She huffed, but was still smiling. "Someday, I'll mark you as well."

"I'm certain you will, dear." He kissed her again. "What do you say if we continue this in the bed instead?"

Hermione smirked and took the file which had fallen down on the floor. "Only if you let me read."

He lifted her up in his arms. "If you read quickly, we can read it at the same time."

She nibbled his chin as he carried her over to the bed. "I do read quickly."

He lay her down and kissed her. She dropped the file on the pillow and let her hands roam over his back. Even if she just had an orgasm, she could feel herself heating up again. Although, he didn't deepen the kiss; instead, he let his lips wander over her cheek and down her neck.

She purred. "I love it when you do that."

He chuckled against her throat and started to stroke the side of her body. "I know you do, my dear. Although, it will take some time before I'm ready to enjoy your exquisite body again. Let us read."

Hermione sighed, a bit disappointed, before she turned to lie on her back against his chest. He put his arm around her picked up the file. For some reason, he actually let her skim through the pages he had already read. Then, they both continued with the rest of it. Hermione had to admit that it was very exciting. Helga Hufflepuff really knew how to write, and she focused very much on the power of love, to Voldemort's great annoyance.

"What does love have to do with anything?" he muttered when they were halfway through. "I'm certain I can make it work without love."

Hermione simply rolled her eyes and continued to read. His fingers were playing with her hair. It felt nice.

They were almost at the end of the text when Hermione realised that love did have something to do with it.

_Salazar and I have discussed the possibility of immortality through my goblet. He believes that it can be made possible. I know this can be possible, because I have heard the story about the creation of the goblet. In the beginning, there were two of them. A great warlock of the northern lands created the first one. He had lost his love to the Frost and wanted to bring her back. With a magic greater then any __other, he created the Goblet from the Songs in the Wind, the Heart of the Water, the Peace of the Forest, the Hope in the Fire and his own most sacred essence. He worked for three days and three nights and with all Love he possessed, he managed to bring his loved one back to life._

_She lived again. However, they soon realised she had to live forever. As the years past by, she never changed while he grew older. It was torture for them. In an act of desperation, she created a second Goblet. The second Goblet had one purpose and one purpose only, to kill. It was created from the Coldness in the wind, the Anger of the Water, the Wildness of the Forest, the Despair in the Fire and her own most sacred essence. After three days and three nights, she was done and made her lover drink from the Goblet. He died and was then brought back to life again by the first Goblet, the one he had made himself. As the story goes, they continued to live a long and happy life, until they both grew tired and together drank from her Goblet._

_Salazar can never know of this, even if it wouldn't surprise me if he already had. I'm glad I don't know where the second Goblet is. Because the first Goblet can't bring back someone who has died a normal death. I'm not certain which death it can bring back; however, I believe it can only bring back those deaths made from the Elements and the Elements only._

_Although, even if Salazar in some miraculous way managed to find the second Goblet and drink from it, I'm not certain anyone will love him enough to want to bring him back._

"Oh," Voldemort let the file sink down on the bed. Hermione looked up at him. He seemed to think fast and hard. Nevertheless, in the end he came to the same conclusion as Hermione had. You had to die to reach immortality and someone else had to bring you back to life. Voldemort was afraid of death and he had most effectively made sure that no one would ever want to bring him back to life.


	31. Chapter 31

Happy Friday! New chapter and I hope you'll like it! Not many left now… only two. Wow!

To Kida Riddle; I'm glad you like my stories so much! And I don't think I'll ever stop writing. I have already begun with a new fanfic, but I'm no really sure if I will be able to finish it. But don't fear, I'll probably write something more! If nothing else, I have planned to post a couple of one-shorts on adultfanficion(dot)net. Thanks for reviewing!

Enjoy and beware of the smut!

* * *

Chapter 31

Voldemort felt like crying. He had finally found a way to gain immortality only to realise he could never do what it takes. This had to be what Dumbledore had talked about. The old Headmaster had read this book and realised that Voldemort would never ever trust anyone enough to drink from the Cup of Death. All hard work for nothing.

Unless… he looked down at his wife who was looking at him with a worried expression. Could he wish for her to bring him back to life? No, the moment he died she would be free from the Contract and his wishes would be for naught. A compromise then? He did trust his wife, somewhat. She was the only one he could actually relax with. Although, to bring him back to life? He knew he hadn't done anything to her to deserve that.

"Hermione," he began.

She interrupted him. "No."

"But…," he tried again.

"No, don't ever ask me to do it," she said with narrowed eyes. "I couldn't do that to the world."

To the world? Voldemort blinked. Could she do it for her own sake then?

"If I promise not to take control over the world?" he asked. After all, being immortal had always been his highest priority. Everything else, he could live without as long as he actually lived!

Hermione just shook her head. "Voldemort, I don't really think you have realised this yet but you have to die first. Do you really think you could kill yourself? That is the reason why you want to live forever, isn't it? You are afraid to die."

Oh, right, that was true. No, he hadn't really thought about that. Now when he did, he actually started to hyperventilate. Kill himself? He couldn't… no… never, not him, not die, no-no-no-no-no.

Hermione tried to calm him down. She hugged and shushed him like he was their son. With an iron-will, he forced himself to calm down. He wouldn't think about it. There had to be another way. Perhaps if he let someone else try it first so he knew it worked? Yes, then he wouldn't actually die, he would only stop breathing for just a second. It would be like sleeping and when he woke up, he would be immortal. Yes that would work but first he had to make sure it actually worked. He had to make someone else drink from the Cup of Death and then bring that person back to life. Then, he could force that person to drink from the Cup of Death again so Voldemort would be the only immortal one. Or he could let that person live for a while. Yes, it didn't matter so much now. Now, he had to find the Cup of Death. He already had the Cup of Life and had made some small tests to make sure it worked, just simple things like making trees grow in the desert.

As he started to relax, he leaned against Hermione. What did she think of all this? He wished he was able to see into her thoughts just like she could see his.

"I don't know if I'd be relieved or not," Hermione confessed as an answer to his thoughts.

He scowled at her. He didn't want her to see his thoughts! Regaining his self control, he straightened.

"Oh, sorry," Hermione mumbled and let go of him. "I thought you… never mind."

Voldemort stood up from the bed and walked over to the sofa where his clothes still lay. "I want to find the Cup of Death."

Hermione looked up, surprised. Obviously, she hadn't heard that part of the plan from his mind. Good.

"But I thought…,"

Voldemort interrupted her. "I'll find a way. Right now, we will find the second Cup. Any idea where it can be?"

"I haven't found any evidences of its existence since the eighteenth century, when it was seen in the Northern lands." She sighed. "Perhaps it's still there. Or…"

"What?" he asked eagerly.

"Well, don't you get the feeling sometimes that the Cups seem to have a will of its own? I mean, they have travelled all over the world, but now they are back here… close to where it was created. What if the Cup let Grindelwald find it so it could come closer to home?" Hermione asked.

Voldemort sighed. "I don't think we will ever know. Perhaps we were just lucky to find it when we did."

"Or perhaps it wanted to reward you for doing a nice things, saving my mum and all," she suggested and stroked his arm.

Voldemort rose from the bed. "Perhaps. Will you order some dinner?"

"Lolly?" she called and the House-Elf popped in. "Could you bring us some dinner, please? A fish dish with potatoes, I think."

Lolly nodded and bowed before she left again.

"I don't know why you are so polite to them," Voldemort mocked as he dressed.

Hermione shrugged. "My parents raised me to have manners."

"I see. Are you going to raise our son the same way?" he asked and went over to the bookshelf. He had an idea on how to find the last Cup.

"I will try," Hermione answered matter-of-factly.

The House-Elf came back with the dinner and Hermione sat down to eat. Voldemort took three books with him before he sank down on the sofa to eat as well.

"What are you looking for?" Hermione asked and took a piece of fish in her mouth.

"I was just thinking… the Cups aren't older than 3000 years. It would take a lot of magic to make them. Hence, it should be magical energy left were it was made. I'll try to find a place where people have found old magical energy in the 'Northern lands'. There shouldn't be too many places," he explained and opened the book.

Hermione frowned. "You believe the Cup of Death has returned to where it was made?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't hurt to look. Perhaps we will find some clues."

As they ate, they scanned their books, looking for places in the north with magical energy. They had decided to look at everything north of Hadrian's Wall and a bit into Asia, to begin with. Strangely enough, they found quite many old places, but no stories about an old magical energy.

"This is useless," Hermione said after some hours of reading. "In one book, they say there is a lot of magical energy, in the next there isn't any at all!"

Voldemort looked up at her. She seemed tried. "I can continue alone if you want to go to bed."

Hermione sank back in the sofa. "What time is it?"

Voldemort looked at his pocket watch. "Three o'clock in the morning."

She sighed. "Then we should both go to bed."

He looked at the pile of books they still had left. Perhaps one of them contained the knowledge they were after. They couldn't just leave it!

Hermione seemed to know what he was thinking (even if she wasn't touching him), because she said; "They will still be there in the morning Voldemort. Come on."

She took his hand and dragged him over to the bed. Voldemort was tired, too tired to object, but his mind was still on the books. Hermione waved her wand and they were both undressed. She pushed him into bed and pulled the covers over them.

"We haven't brushed our teeth," Voldemort said and made an attempt to rise.

Hermione held him down by putting her head and hand over him. "I know what you are trying to do, Voldemort. You need your sleep. Otherwise you will be all cranky and kill everyone who annoys you tomorrow and I can't have that."

"But…"

Hermione waved her wand again and the lights went out. "No, the books will be there in the morning. Sleep with me."

"Mother hen," Voldemort mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that," Hermione mumbled back. "Now, if you don't sleep, I'll spank you!"

Voldemort smirk. "I believe it is the other way around, dear."

"Whatever. Sleep."

Chuckling quietly, he closed his eyes and sleep soon claimed him. The last thing he felt was Hermione's hand on his chest and how good it felt. The row from the morning was completely forgotten.

xxx

Hermione woke up before her husband. Sometime during the night, she had placed her leg over his stomach and now she could feel something hard against her knee. She couldn't resist a chuckle. Feeling a bit naughty, she slowly pulled her feet over the inside of his thigh. Voldemort let out a sigh, but didn't wake. Her smile widened, this could be a fun way to wake him up.

She moved her leg a little so she could reach his cock with her hand. It didn't take long for her to make it fully erect. When that was done, she straddled him and moved his cock into her wetness. Voldemort started to wake up, and although he didn't open his eye, she could see a smile starting to spread over his face. She slowly started to ride him as she massaged her clit.

His hands came up on her legs and he helped her move faster. It didn't take more then three or four minutes before they both lay gasping in each others arms.

"Good morning," Hermione mumbled and kissed him.

"Good morning, indeed," Voldemort mumbled back and finally opened his eyes. "Someone was horny since yesterday."

She smirked and stroked his cheek. "Well, I have never met anyone who shared my love for knowledge. You have to admit that it is arousing."

Voldemort smiled. "Indeed it is."

Hermione cuddled into her husband for a while and he let her do it. Although, a moment later, he mumbled something about the bathroom and disappeared. Hermione rolled over to her back and stretched. They had a lot of books to read today. And they had to get back to Dmitri and Rose.

"Are you going to lie there all day?" Voldemort asked when he came back. "It's almost nine o'clock."

Hermione sighed. "I'm working on it. Although, when I used to spend my summer with my parents, I could sit up and read all night and then sleep until one in the afternoon."

He seemed surprised. "Really? They didn't wake you up?"

She shook her head. "No, they said something about that was what teenagers did. Didn't you sleep long when you were young?"

Voldemort huffed and sat down on the bed next to her. He was only wearing a bathrobe and Hermione was once again hit by the fact how sexy her husband was.

"No, I can't say I ever had the chance to sleep past eight when I was a teenager. Although, there was a period when I was thirty and living in Egypt. I would sleep in the day instead of the night. I did it for almost a year," he said and crossed his legs.

Hermione sat up and let the blanket sink down to her waist. "How come?"

Voldemort glanced down at her naked breasts. "I was studying vampires, even befriended a few as well. They're very interesting creatures."

"I can imagine," Hermione said. "You must have had a very interesting life."

"Very," he said, but he seemed to be far away in thought.

She looked at his face. He was frowning slightly. "What is it?" she asked.

He blinked and looked at her again. "Nothing, it's just… vampires can feel magic better than we can. They move and work quicker than we do as well. Perhaps if I called in some favours…"

He rose from the bed and with a wave of his wand; he was dressed in an ordinary black robe. He took two steps toward the door, then turned around and went back to her. She was very surprised when he bent down to kiss her.

"You are very helpful, Hermione," he whispered, and then disappeared.

Hermione stared after him. Voldemort could be weird sometimes. She sighed and went to get ready for the day. Almost an hour later, Voldemort still was not back. Since she didn't know what to read now, she decided to go down to the Discipline Room for a workout.

A few Death Eaters were down there when she came and she recognised most of them. Two women were busy in a duel and three other were watching. Hermione ignored them and began her own practice. As she worked, more and more Death Eaters arrived to the room. She was almost done with her workout when she heard someone cough behind her. Turning around, she saw a very nervous Max.

"Hi," he said, not meeting her eyes. "I just wanted to say… sorry. I didn't mean too… I hope he didn't…"

Hermione sighed. "I know its okay. However, I don't think we can meet again for quite some time. He was very angry and I have to say that I was a bit angry myself."

Now, Max met her eyes. "You were? I thought…"

Hermione frowned. "You thought what? Max, I like you as a friend, nothing more."

"I know that," he quickly assured. "I just… I didn't know you liked your husband so much."

"Well, I do," Hermione heard herself saying. Then she blinked. She did?

"Oh, I just… sorry. I… you are just so pretty," he mumbled. "And I'm so… I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since I first met you."

Hermione couldn't help smiling a little. What was with men this week? In her whole life only one boy had told her he liked her in a special way, now two in two days? Merlin.

"I'm afraid you'll have to forget about me, Max," she said. "I'm married and I'll most likely stay married."

He was about to say something when Rabastan Lestrange came up next to him. "Maximillius! What are you doing here?"

"I was just apologising," Max said and looked up at his father. "I'll leave, now."

However, when he turned around to leave, Voldemort entered the room. It took him a moment to spot Hermione and his eyes narrowed dangerously when he saw Max. Rabastan put an arm around his son's shoulder and Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. Nothing good could come out from this.

"Didn't I tell you never to speak to her again?" Voldemort hissed to Max when he came closer. The whole room seemed to freeze.

Rabastan took a step forward. "My Lord, I don't know what my son has done to anger you, but he was only here to apologise…"

"Silence!" Voldemort roared. He had his wand in his hand. Hermione felt like it was time to act. Rabastan was obviously trying to protect his son and Hermione felt for him. She would do the same for Dmitri.

She went up to Voldemort and put a hand on his arm. "Let me deal with this."

Voldemort looked at her. "What?"

She looked straight into his eyes, unblinkingly. "This happened because of me. Let me deal with it."

It took a couple of seconds, then he nodded and slowly lowered his wand. Hermione turned toward Rabastan who was still standing in front of his son. He took a step aside when Hermione walked to Max who looked at her with a frown. She knew what she had to do. Without any thought, she hit him straight in the face with all power she could muster. His nose brook and he fell down on his knees.

"Don't touch me again," Hermione said as coldly as she could. She turned around and went back to Voldemort who looked at her in surprised amusement. "Let's go."

Her husband held out his arm for her and when she took it, they both left the Discipline Room like a royal couple leaving a big feast.

Once they were out, Hermione let out a whimper. "Oh, my hand hurts so much."

Voldemort chuckled and healed it for her. "That was excellent, my dear."

She sighed and flexed her now healed fist. "I didn't want you to torture him again. And hopefully, he will get over me now."

He looked at her, quite thoughtfully. Then, he took her hand. "Come, I think it's time for me to show you something."

Hermione followed him quietly. Since he wasn't wearing a glow now, she could sense his thoughts. He was excited and a bit worried but she didn't try to listen to his thoughts. Voldemort thought far too quickly for her to keep up and she was glad she had managed to block that. It was only like a quiet background noise. However, it was helpful to know what he felt. That way, she knew what to expect. Alas, what ever he wanted to show her now couldn't be too bad.

They walked to the Apparition point and she closed her eyes when he Apparated them away. When she opened them again, they were standing in a forest. Hermione frowned. Forests looked quite the same, but why did she get the feeling she had been here before?

"Are you up for a run?" Voldemort asked, smirking.

Hermione eyes widened. This was the same forest he had taken her too all those months ago because he thought she needed to run.

"Okay," she said.

He transformed his robe into a more manageable pants and shirt and took off. Hermione followed him. She had no problem keeping up with him this time and when they reached the same lake she had bathed her feet in, he stopped. He sat down on a rock and made a gesture for her to sit down on the grass in front of him. She sat and leaned against a tree, looking up at him. The sun made him look paler than he was, almost sick. Hermione's stomach clenched, she didn't want him to get sick!

"Do you know where we are?" he asked after a while. He was looking out over the small lake.

"No?"

"We're in the north of France, Normandy. It has been the place for many battles over the years. I have always found it… peaceful," Voldemort explained. "I always imagine myself settling down here, after I had reached immortality. Then, when I decided that I wanted to control the world, I saw this place as my control centre."

Hermione looked out over the lake as well. It was very peaceful and would probably be a good place to both settle down in and have a control centre. But why was he telling her this?

"When Potter killed my former body," he continued in a low voice. "I spread my own ashes over this lake."

She blinked. That was a bit… disturbing. Although, it did wake up her old question about how he had this body he had now. She asked the question aloud.

"I created this body," he asked simply. "I was inspired my that Muggle novel by Mary Shelly _Frankenstein_."

Hermione eyes widened. "Don't tell me you robbed graves too…"

He chuckled. "No dear, this body has never been death. It didn't live before I possessed it. And I won't bore you with the details now, but if you are interested, you can read my research papers when you have the time. Although, creating this body did take lives. I picked out the Muggles I saw suitable and used them in a… magical cocktail. I also used my own blood and… other bodily fluids."

Hermione got a very morbid picture in her head involving Voldemort and corpses. It made her shudder. "I thought you told me you weren't going to tell this story until you wanted to make me sick!"

Voldemort shrugged. "I thought you would be able to handle it by now. But as I said, you can read it in detail some other time. What I want to tell you is that… if something ever happens to either of us, there is a way to get a perfect body back. Although, you have to do it in time, before you die. If I hadn't bound my essence to the other body, I would have died when Potter threw the curse on me."

Hermione started to become a little afraid. "Is something going to happen to… either of us?"

Voldemort looked at her for the first time since they sat down. His red eyes glistened in the sun. "I hope not. However, I would be stupid if I didn't think we had enemies. When I saw what you did to Lestrange I realised that very soon, you'll have a price on your head as well."

"Do you think your Death Eaters will do something after what I did to Max?" she asked, a bit surprised.

"Not right away. Although, Rabastan didn't look too happy. If you upset too many of them and they find you alone one night… they won't care what I will do to them. And I know what they can do to people they want to hurt, especially to women," Voldemort was talking in a slow, matter-of-factly voice. It made Hermione wonder how much he actually trusted his Death Eaters. He had said before that they feared him. But she also understood how troublesome it was that she was a Muggle-born. They had killed many like her just because Voldemort had said so.

She realised something. "Do the Death Eaters think that you really want to get rid of me? Because you have told them so many times that you hate Muggle-borns?"

Voldemort sighed. "Yes, I have received suggestions of ways to have you taken care of. Although, since I'm under the Contract, I have to protect you and can't, in any way, imply that I would agree to such a thing."

She frowned, not sure what to think of this. "Do you want me to die?"

He sank down on the grass in front of her and took her hands. "No, Hermione, I don't want you to die."

She could feel that he was sincere. And she realised that this was the closet to "I love you" she would ever come, so she kissed him. He seemed surprised by her kiss, although, he wasn't late to take advantage over her willingness. Soon, they were both naked in a very heated embrace that left Hermione breathless. It was slow and still so passionate. It wasn't regular shagging, this was making love.

However, her breathless happiness was ruined when she heard a thought running through his head. _If Dmitri dies, I can have her all to myself again!_


	32. Chapter 32

AH! Only one more chapter left now... hope you enjoy this one and I'll hopefully give you the final chapter shortly!

Beware of the SMUT!

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Chapter 32

"What?" Hermione roared and pushed him off her.

Voldemort was very surprised at being pushed away during their sex act. Everything was so perfect. She had been happy, they were next to a beautiful lake and he was certain she had just climaxed. "What?"

"Are you planning to kill our son?" she asked, outrageous.

Voldemort blinked. "No, I can't say I am. Why?"

"I just heard you thinking that if Dmitri dies, you can have me all to yourself again!" She was trying to find her wand in their clothes.

Voldemort sighed. "Well, it does sound like something I could think, however, that doesn't mean I'll do anything. Do you know how often I actually decline to kill people, even if I could?"

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "Is that supposed to calm me down? You kill an awful lot of people anyway!"

She was about to rise when he pulled her down in his lap, amused by her outburst. "My sweet little wife, you are overreacting! I won't harm our son because I know that would only drive you away. This is why I don't like the fact that you can see into my mind, you will only misunderstand what I think!"

At first, she tried to break free from him, but as he talked, she stiffened. "So you will never do anything to harm Dmitri?"

Voldemort considered that. "Not unless he deserves it."

"What?" Hermione asked and turned her head to look at him. "You should never harm a child!"

He looked down at her. Deciding it was better to show her, he gripped her hands and made her turn over to her stomach on his lap. With not as much power as he could muster, he spanked her.

Hermione let out a small hiss. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

He spanked her again. "Do tell,Hermione, is this very painful?"

"Ow! Yes!"

He spanked her again, harder. "Really? You don't think I could do something more horrible?"

Hermione tried to get her hands free. "I'm certain you could. Ow! But why are you doing this to me?"

Voldemort spanked her one last time before he let his hand lay still on her arse. "Because this is the worst I would do to our son if he does something wrong. I assure you, it will be more humiliating than painful."

Hermione lay perfectly still in his lap. He slowly stroked her now red bottom and chuckled when she shivered. "Can you live with that, Hermione?"

"I don't know," she said slowly. "I think it is better to talk to a child instead of punishing him."

Voldemort smiled and stroked her thighs. "We can try that too."

Hermione shuddered when he came closer to her mound. He slowly stroked her labia and was about to push two fingers inside of her when she sat up. Since he wasn't holding her down anymore, it wasn't hard. He smiled at her. She had tears in her eyes, although, she looked more angry than sad. He was about to kiss her when he suddenly found himself on his stomach across her lap.

"Hermione!" he growled and then groaned when her hand came down on his arse. He really hadn't expected that.

Her hand came down hard on his arse two more times before he managed to break free. With a growl, he made an attempt to attack her, but she was ready for it. They wrestled on the ground for a couple of minutes before he got the upper hand. By that time, she was laughing.

"What's so funny?" he snarled. He was sitting on top of her thighs with his hand over her wrists.

"I just spanked the Dark Lord," she managed to say between all laughing.

Voldemort lips thinned.

Hermione saw it and stopped laughing, but was still smiling. "Oh come one, don't be like that. You spanked me; it is only fair that I spank you as well."

He knew she could feel how annoyed he was. She was smiling innocently now, flexing her back. His eyes were drawn done to her breasts. Was she trying to distract him? Yes, she was and it was working. He captured a nipple in his mouth and she let out a moan. He slowly moved to the side of her breast and bit her. She gasped, even if it couldn't have been too painful.

He let her go with a smirk. "Don't spank me again."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I won't if you won't."

Voldemort snorted and helped her up from the ground. They dressed and he was about to fasten his robe when she suddenly spoke.

"What did you look like before your body was destroyed the first time?" She was staring out over the lake.

"Well, older than I do now, I guess," he said with a shrug. "I had also done some experiments which changed my body. For the worse, I have to admit. I was foolish."

She turned toward him. "Dark Arts rituals?"

He nodded. "I learned that you should never try it on yourself before you know what will happen."

Hermione laughed and took his hand. "We should get back to Dmitri now."

"Yes, and I have to see if my vampires have managed to find anything," he said thoughtfully before he Apparated them to the Lestrange's cottage.

"So you did manage to come in contact with them?" Hermione asked as they entered the house.

"Yes, and they have already sent out a search group. With their speed and abilities, they will probably have found the place before the week is over. If they don't, I'll draw the conclusion that we have been mistaken and the Cups were made some other place," Voldemort went into the kitchen. He was hungry.

His mother-in-law was sitting in the kitchen, reading a newspaper, when they entered. "There you are! I started to wonder when you would come back."

"Hi, mum," Hermione said while Voldemort just nodded and went straight to the cupboard.

"How do you feel?" Rose asked her daughter.

Voldemort listened on half an ear while he prepared dinner. He felt like doing it himself for once.

"Oh, you know," Hermione said. "Never pleasant to be at a funeral, but we weren't so close."

"What is that on your shoulder?" Rose suddenly asked. Voldemort almost cut himself on the finger. Damn, he forgot to put a glamour on the tattoo!

"Uhm… just a tattoo. Haven't you seen it before?" Hermione asked. "I thought it looked cool…"

"You didn't have it yesterday when we were out on the balcony," Rose objected.

Hermione cleared her throat, clearly uncomforted by the situation. "Well, I put a glamour on it sometimes."

"Hermione, I am your mother. I can still see when you are lying to me." Rose sounded very disappointed.

Voldemort decided to come to his wife's rescue. He let go of the knife and vegetables and went over to Hermione.

"It's a wizards-thing," he explained and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Old families have the tradition to mark their beloved. I gave her this mark on our wedding night. Hermione felt like it made her look like an object and usually uses a glamour over it. Yesterday, we met a lot of people from other old families, and I asked her to remove the glamour. Otherwise, people would start to ask questions."

Rose looked from him to Hermione. "Is this true?"

Hermione looked down on the floor and nodded.

Rose crossed her arms. "Are there any other old sexist traditions I should know about?"

Voldemort arched his eyebrows. "A tattoo isn't more sexist than a wedding ring."

"A tattoo is forever!" Rose exclaimed.

"So is a marriage," Voldemort retorted.

Rose seemed taken aback from this. "You can't divorce?"

"Not in the kind of marriage we have entered," Voldemort said, trying to maintain calm.

"Why would you enter a marriage there is no way out of, and at your age?" Rose asked Hermione, sounding quite upset.

"Mum," Hermione said, trying to calm her mother down. "It's not like I would marry anyone else. I love V… Tom."

Rose scowled. "You are too young to know the difference between a crush and love, young lady. I have to say that it's only out of thankfulness for being saved I haven't told your husband exactly what I think of him for marrying someone so young and inexperienced!"

"I'm standing right here," Voldemort hissed. Hermione interrupted him.

"I'm not sixteen years old anymore, mum! I'll be twenty soon, so you have no idea what I have been going through this last three years! I thought you were dead! I had to grow up faster than anyone else! I saw my best friend die!" Hermione's voice grew higher for every word.

Rose seemed to regret what she had said. "Oh, Hermione… I'm sorry."

Hermione pulled out from Voldemort's grip and ran out from the room. A quite childish gesture, if he were to decide. However, instead of going after her, he decided to deal with her mother.

"Let her go," Voldemort said when Rose made an attempt to go after her daughter. "She has to calm down before you can speak reasonably with her."

Rose turned to him. "It sounds like you have had many arguments?"

"We have," Voldemort said, his face hard. "Why don't you tell me exactly what you think of me? I assure you, I can handle it."

Perhaps it was because Rose didn't know who he was, but she didn't seem at all afraid by his expression. "Yes, perhaps that would be best. I think you have taken advantage over my daughter. I can't say I understand much of this world, but I do think people here can be happy as well and I can see that my daughter isn't happy. I blame you for it."

Voldemort crossed his arms. "I can't say I knew how Hermione was as a child, but I do know that war changes people. Like she said herself, she has seen people die in front of her and not been able to do a thing about it. Since I married her, she hasn't really been in the war. I have tried to keep her safe. She doesn't have nightmares and I know she trusts me. Now, if she isn't the happy and naïve little girl you remember, that is hardly my fault."

Well, perhaps it was, but Rose didn't have to know that.

"Why did you marry her? There had to be a lot of women your own age," Rose asked, sounding annoyed.

A picture of him being married to Minerva McGonagall entered his mind and he shuddered. "I can't say age is the best thing to go after in a marriage. Most witches bore me. They are stupid and giggly. Your daughter is the only woman I have ever met who has an intellect which rivals with my own. She is also very attractive and passionate. Besides, we age differently in this world. In ten years, no one will comment on our age difference."

"Be as it may," Rose said stiffly. "I don't understand why _she_ would marry you. You are clearly very arrogant and self-centered and I believe that in a couple of years, she will be very bored with you. What will you do then, when you clearly can't divorce each other?"

"I don't think that will ever happen," Voldemort snarled. "I won't let it happen."

He turned around and left the room as well. It wouldn't be good if he started to torture his mother-in-law. Hermione would be upset, Rose would probably be scared and angry and he would have to fight with both of them. No, that wouldn't be any good. Instead, he went up to his wife who had locked herself into their bedroom. He unlocked the door and found her in the bed with Dmitri next to her. The baby was whining quietly as his mother cried.

Voldemort sighed and his anger faded away as he sat down next to Hermione. "Why are you crying?"

She took a deep breath and turned toward him. "I knew it was only a matter of time before you and mum started arguing. She is very feministic and fights for everyone's equality. While you are… well, you."

"I see," Voldemort said. "You two are very much alike, then."

Hermione got a sad and lost expression on her face. "She was my idol when I was younger. I wanted to be exactly like her. But now… I just can't do the things she does. I can't fight for the weaker ones because then I would have to fight you, and I just… I can't do that either."

Voldemort sighed again. "Now you will be in the middle of every argument your mother and I have."

Hermione nodded and pressed her hands over her eyes. "I don't want to cry but I have given up so much because of you. I don't want to give up my mother as well. Now she will try to find a way to break or marriage and then she will find out who you really are and then…"

"Why would she try to break or marriage?" Voldemort asked. "I told her we were happy!"

She looked at him again. "Well, not break it, but she will try to find a way so that if I ever want to divorce you, I'll be able to do it."

"Oh," Voldemort stroked his chin. "I could use a memory-charm over her so she won't remember this argument."

Hermione shook her head. "I knew this would come up sooner or later. It won't help."

"Then perhaps it's better if she moved. I don't mind paying for an apartment until she finds a job," Voldemort suggested.

"Yes, that would probably be for the best. Although, do you think she is ready? I mean, she was captured for so long."

He chuckled. "I do believe that if she is strong enough to argue with me, she is strong enough to go back to her world."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, perhaps you are right."

"I'm always right," he smiled and bent down to kiss her. She kissed him back, but withdrew before the kiss became too heated.

"I wouldn't say that," she said with smirk.

Voldemort just chuckled.

xxx

Hermione wasn't really hiding from her mother. She just felt better staying in hers and Voldemort's room. Dmitri had missed her and she needed to spend time with her baby. However, a couple of hours later, she collected whatever courage that had put her in Gryffindor and went down to the living-room where her mother sat.

It was already dark outside and Rose seemed ready to go to bed. Hermione took a deep breath and sat down next to her.

"So… what are you reading?" Hermione asked, looking at the book in Rose's hand.

Rose looked at her with a thoughtful face. "Just a book I found in your library about ghosts."

"Oh, right," Hermione looked down at her knees. "Look, mum… I'm sorry I became so upset before… it's just so many things have happened lately. I'm not the same person anymore."

Rose sighed and put the book down on the coffee table. "I have noticed. I never thought you would end up being married and a mum before you were twenty."

"I know, I hadn't thought that either. But you know… things happen. I hadn't planned to become pregnant, it just happened and I don't regret it. I love Dmitri," Hermione tried to explain.

"I'm sure you do, Hermione. I loved you from the moment I knew I was pregnant," Rose said fondly and placed a hand on hers. "Then perhaps you can understand why I'm worried. I don't want anything bad to happen to you and I get the feeling your husband isn't the best of people."

Hermione bit her lip.

"I mean," Rose continued. "Do you even know what he is doing during the days?"

"Not in detail," Hermione said in a low voice. "But I do know what he is doing. I also know that he would never cheat on me."

"Well, at least that is something," Rose muttered. "Although, forgive me for saying this, but he is a pig of a man."

Hermione couldn't repress a laugher. "I know, but he is my pig of a man."

Rose stood. "I just don't want to see you unhappy, Hermione."

"I'm not unhappy," Hermione answered and looked into her mother's eyes. "I promise."

Rose looked at her with a thoughtful face. "Then I will believe you. However, if he ever does anything to make you unhappy, don't hesitate to tell me. He may be a wizard, but if he ever hurts you, I'll have him crying for his mummy in no time."

Hermione chuckled. "Trust me, mum, if he ever hurts me _I_ will be the one to make him cry for his mother."

Rose pattered her head. "That's my girl. Good night."

"Good night, mum."

The older woman left the room and Hermione sank back down on the sofa. She felt better now and it seemed like her mother was back to her usual strong self. That was good.

"Befriending your mother again?"

Hermione turned her head when she heard Voldemort's voice. "Yes, why?"

Voldemort came to sit next to her on the couch. He was holding a cup of tea in his hands. "Just curious, is everything well then?"

"As well as it can be," Hermione said sadly.

Voldemort took a sip from his tea before he put the cup down on the table. "She doesn't like me."

She snorted. "Very few people like you."

He chuckled. "True, but your mother is the first one to hate me and not knowing who I am."

She chuckled as well. "I just wish things could be different."

Voldemort pulled her to him. "Well, they aren't. You'll just have to live with that."

Hermione looked up at him. "Well aren't you sensible."

He smiled down at her. "Sensible is not my thing."

"Right," she muttered. "So I take it we should just go to bed and have sex."

His smile turned into a smirk and he lifted her up in his arms. "If my lady commands it."

"She does," Hermione mumbled into his neck.

"You are one horny lady, dear," he said amused as he carried her over to the bed. "Three times in one day, are you trying to break the record?"

Hermione snorted as he put her down on the bed. "Shut up and kiss me."

He did.

xxx

Three days later, Voldemort was sitting in his office. Hermione and Rose were off to find an apartment for Rose. Voldemort had decided to stay away until his mother-in-law had moved for good. The last days had been very tense and Voldemort felt that if he couldn't fight the annoying woman, he better stay away. Besides, Hermione was relieved that he didn't fight and she showed her gratefulness very passionately every night.

Yawning and stretching in his chair, he thought about going home for the night. It was late and he would like to eat dinner with his wife for once. However, before he had time to rise, there was a knock on the door. Sighing, he opened the door with his wand and saw a tall figure standing outside.

"Cassandra," he said with a smile. "Come in."

This was the female vampire whom had been in charge of the search for the strong magical power.

"We found three places," Cassandra said in a low, smooth voice that could mesmerise any mortal man (except Voldemort) to do her bidding. "They are all close to each other, two in the land you call Finland and the other in Russia. Happy hunting."

She gave him a piece of paper with the locations on. Voldemort smile widened as he read it. "Thank you, Cassandra. Would you like the payment in blood or money?"

Cassandra smiled, showing her sharp teeth. "Blood."

Why had he even bothered to ask? He rose and made an attempt leave the room but she stopped him and placed a hand on his chest.

"Why don't you come with me, Voldemort?" she whispered in an even more suggestive voice. "I know what you long for… I can give that to you."

Voldemort removed her hand. "You also now that I could never stand to be a slave to someone else. I'll gain immortality in my own way."

Before he could stop her, she leaned in and licked his neck up to his ear. "That's too bad. We could have fun."

He shuddered at having her mouth so near his body. "I'm a married man now Cassandra."

Laughing, she stepped back. "You can't mean the great Lord Voldemort cares about such trivial things as marriages? Why settle with one girl when you can have everyone?"

Voldemort looked at her indifferently. "One girl is enough to me. If I had another like her, I would never make it out of bed."

Cassandra laughed again. Voldemort rolled his eyes and beckoned her to follow him down to her blood. As he went, he thought about the possible location of the Cup of Death. Soon, he would have it and when he did… well, then he had it all.


	33. Chapter 33

Author's note at the end! Enjoy the final chapter! Small smut warning!

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Chapter 33

"Voldemort? Where did you put Dmitri's nappies?" Hermione asked and looked into the room were he was sitting, studying maps. Dmitri was hanging over her shoulder.

He looked up, annoyed. "How should I know, he is your son!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I asked you to pick up new nappies on your way back! Don't tell me you forgot!"

Voldemort slammed his hands in the desk. "Damn it woman, can't you see I'm busy?"

She moved the baby to her other arm. "You don't have to yell at me. I am as annoyed as you are that we can't fine the bloody Cup, don't take it out on our son."

She left, probably to transfigure a towel to a diaper. Voldemort hid his face in his hand. They had been staying at a small hotel next to Paanajarvi National Park for almost a month now, searching for the Cup of Death. He had found the three places where the vampire had said they would be and they were indeed magical places. The problem was that he couldn't really investigate the places! One of them was placed under a mountain. Yes, _under _a mountain. He knew there had to be some secret entrance to get inside the mountain but he hadn't found it yet and it really annoyed him!

The second place was just as difficult since it had been covered by a lake. It was quite hard to search for magical artifacts under water. They had been diving for the past two weeks and only found rests after an old village. He didn't really think the Cup was there, but since it had a field of magic around it, he thought it was foolish not to investigate it.

The last place had been easy to find. However, they had quickly found out that it was not the place were the Cup had been created. No, it was merely a place were some old powerful sacrifice had been made. Interesting, certainly, but not what he was looking for.

For the past three weeks, he had tried to find the entrance of the mountain and search the bottom of the lake. They were currently staying at a small Muggle hotel where they only spoke Finish, which Voldemort knew very little about, so the locals weren't able to help them with their mission.

Suddenly, there were a knock on the door. "Sauna!"

Voldemort sighed and looked at the clock, it was eight. For some reason, the old Finish couple who ran the hotel thought it was a sin if you didn't used the sauna every night. Good thing it was so enjoyable, otherwise he would never had stood for it.

He stood from the sofa in their small living room and went to the even smaller bedroom. He had demanded to have the biggest room in the hotel and yet it was nothing to brag about. Hermione had muttered something about no TV. At least the food was manageable.

"Hermione," he called into their bathroom. "It's sauna time."

His wife came out with a sleeping Dmitri in her arms. "Good, he just fell asleep."

She placed a spell over his crib that would let her know if he woke up and quickly undressed. Voldemort was already standing with just a towel around his waist.

"You know, I think this regular use of the sauna is good for you," she said as they went outside were the sauna was located.

"Really? How come?" he asked and shivered slightly because of the wind. The sun was still clearly visible on the sky, but it was getting chillier.

"Even if you are angry with our lack of progress, you haven't killed anyone!" she said happily and hung her towel on a hook before she entered the hot wooden sauna.

The sauna was big enough for maybe ten persons with two benches on two different levels along the side. Hermione sat down on the upper bench and Voldemort sat down on the lower lever so he could lean his head against her stomach.

"Well, perhaps it is because there aren't many to kill around here," he mumbled and reached out to place her hands on top of his head. "My head is aching."

Hermione chuckled and slowly rubbed his head. "Perhaps we should hire Muggles to dive into the lake for us. They could never steal anything without our knowledge."

"A Muggle would never be able to find the Cup," he said with a sigh. The heat made him relax. "It would look like rubbish to them."

"True. What about a merman?"

"If we can find one I can trust, certainly. However, mermen are only loyal to their own kind," Voldemort explained.

"I know, but we are too few Voldemort. It will take years before we have managed to search the whole lake! A merman would search much quicker."

"And he could steal whatever he finds down there!" Voldemort argued. "Tomorrow, we will leave the lake for a while and try to find an entrance in the mountain. I'm almost certain it is there. I have a feeling… or perhaps we can try to find some old legend about the mountain. If only I understood the language better…"

"Oh, poor Voldemort who doesn't know everything," she teased.

He bit the inside of her tight gently and she smacked his head. He turned around and pulled her down from the bench and down on his knee. Hermione smiled at him and stroked his lower lip with her finger. He captured her finger into his mouth and sucked on it. The heat was making her body slick and he slowly stroked her back.

"The old couple will be here to take their sauna soon," Hermione mumbled.

"I know, this is not a place to have sex in," he stroked her tattoo with a gleam in his eyes. "We'll have to wait until we get back to our room."

However, he didn't even have time to rise before the door to the sauna opened and the old man entered. He smiled when he saw them. "Ah, rakkaus!" he said in a wishful voice.

Voldemort smiled at him and then looked back at Hermione who seemed a little uncomfortable with her nakedness.

"Kyllä," Voldemort said and stroked Hermione's hair. "Rakkaus."

The old man nodded with a friendly smile. Then crossed his arms, closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. Hermione quickly stood from Voldemort's lap and they left the sauna. Wrapped in their towels again, they made their way back to their room.

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked when they were standing in their shower. "Rakkaus?"

"You can translate it to two things," Voldemort said as he washed his hair. "One thing is sexual attraction. The other one is love."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Which translation did you mean when you agreed with him?"

Voldemort smiled and kissed her forehead. "Sometimes, it's better not to translate a word."

xxx

Hermione thought she should be used to her husband's strangeness by know. However, as she sat and fed Dmitri at five o'clock in the morning, she couldn't help but to think about his words. _Sometimes it's better not to translate a word._The sentence kept coming back to her. What did Voldemort mean? She knew he couldn't love, although he often showed that he was sexually attracted to her. Was this his way of saying that she was something more than just a bed warmer?

She scowled at her own thought. Of course she meant more to him than a bed warmer! She was the only one who knew what he was searching for! He didn't trust anyone as much as he trusted her! Although, what is enough? She had thought about what to do when Voldemort found the Cup of Death. Lately he had seemed so certain she would help him achieve immortality. Why?

Dmitri finally let go of her breast and she placed him in his crib. As she climbed down in bed again, Voldemort reached out for her and wrapped an arm around her.

Hermione placed her head against her shoulder and a hand over his stomach. She was almost asleep when it hit her. "I love you!"

Voldemort let out a tired chuckle. "I know, dear."

Then they both fell asleep again.

xxx

Voldemort sneaked out from the room early. He wanted to find a library and hopefully find something about the mountain in a language he understood. Also, he didn't want to risk hearing Hermione's long monologue about her newfound feeling. It was a success for him that she had finally understood that she loved him even if he didn't want to hear her rant about it. She loved him, he felt… much about her. End of story.

A couple of hours later found Voldemort sitting in a corner of one of the smallest libraries he had ever been to. It wasn't really a library; it was more a private collection of mostly local books. Fortunately, the local books were just what Voldemort needed. Unfortunately, they were all in Finish and Sami. However, he had a dictionary and was slowly working on a translation spell that would let him read all books in English. He didn't like translation spells because they always used the most common translation on a book and sometimes it was wrong. Still, he wanted to be done as soon as possible and at least this gave him a hint of what text to look more closely at.

When the spell was completed, he tapped the first book with his wand and sighed in relief when the text turned into something readable. The grammar was all wrong, but he didn't let it bother him. He skimmed through the pages which seemed to be about archaeological findings from the middle ages and what they could mean. It was all very boring about how the people from Sweden went on a crusade to Christianise the Finns. The only useful information was that some Finns had hid in the mountain to get away from the Swedes. Alas, there had to be some way inside!

He was halfway through the second book when someone came over to the small table he had occupied.

"I should have known I would find you here," came his wife's voice.

He looked up with frown. "Didn't you find my note?"

Hermione arched her eyebrows and put Dmitri down on the table. "You left a note?"

"Hm…" Voldemort searched his memory. "Perhaps I forgot."

Hermione snorted and pulled another chair to the table as she held a protective hand over her son. "Good thing this town is so small."

Voldemort nodded and sank down in his book again.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

"I'm trying to find a way into the mountain," he answered in a tone that clearly said he didn't want to be disturbed.

That didn't seem to bother Hermione. "And what have you found?"

Voldemort looked up again, annoyed. "That there is a way in, nothing else."

"Can I help?" Hermione asked. Now he noticed that she seemed… strange. She wouldn't really meet his eyes and her voice was too cheerful.

He sighed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" He could see that she lied.

He put the book on the table and crossed his arm. "I can clearly see that something is bothering you, spit it out so I can continue with this."

Hermione sighed and slowly stroked Dmitri's tummy. "I guess I feel a little… troubled."

Voldemort let his hands sink down on the table. "Has this something to do with your newfound love for me?"

She scowled at him, but nodded. "You could say that. I just… I don't know if I can trust you not to break my heart."

Voldemort was surprised. "Why would I do that?"

Hermione's eyes fell down on the books. "Our Contract is like all other marriage vows. It will keep us together until 'death do us apart' and when you drink from the Cup of Death-"

"I won't die!" he quickly hissed.

She looked up. "I know that, but I don't think the Contract will know that. When you drink from that Cup, our marriage will end. A couple of months ago, that wouldn't have bothered me, but now… I don't know if I want to do it."

"You don't want to do it?" He had become worried. He had counted on the fact that her silly Gryffindor love would want her to keep him alive with her and their son.

She put her head in her hands. "It's not only about me. What if you become bored with being immortal and try to take over the world again?"

"And risk having people find out a way to remove my immortality? With great power come many enemies, Hermione. I thought we had been through this. Immortality is what I want. The rest is… a bonus," he explained.

"Yes, well I still don't understand what would be wrong with the two of us withdrawing and just grow old together and-"

Voldemort stared at her, feeling his anger rise. "Don't you know me at all by now?"

She looked up and gave him a very troubled look. "I know. I also know that this is very convenient for you. How do I know you haven't just tricked me into falling for you and run away with some hot blond model the moment you-"

"Once again I have to ask you; don't you know me at all?" he huffed.

She glared at him. "Well, okay, maybe not a hot model, but… you will be immortal and I'll just be plain old Hermione."

"You are not plain," he objected, his anger replaced by annoyance. "And Salazar knows you are not old. Besides, you will be immortal with me."

Her eyebrows rose. "I will?"

"Of course!" he said and leaned forward. "You are mine and I will not let anything take you away from me."

"Oh," was all she said. "Do you love me?"

He sighed. "I feel that love is highly overrated. What I feel for you is not something I care to explain in words. You will just have to accept that."

"Okay," she said with a smile. "Which book would you like me to read?"

He gave her a book, told her the spell and they spent the rest of the day researching for an entrance to the mountain.

xxx

The next morning Hermione woke up first. She had a feeling something would happen today, something big. Dmitri was quiet and her husband lie next to her with his hand on her shoulder. She realised she was happy, really, really happy. She turned to her side and pressed her body against Voldemort's, waking him with a kiss just like Sleeping Beauty. She couldn't help but to smile at the metaphor.

"Someone is happy," Voldemort noticed and put his arms around her. "Why?"

She nuzzled his chin. "I just am."

He kissed her. "We should get up."

"Yes, we should," she said and placed her leg upon his hip.

"Big day today," he whispered and grinded his cock against her pussy.

"Hopefully, yes." Hermione gasped when he pushed inside her.

It didn't take them long to climax and it left Hermione feeling even happier than before. Voldemort left her in favour for the bathroom with a last kiss. In that moment, Dmitri woke up, screaming of hunger.

Yesterday, they had found a possible entrance to the mountain and today they would see if it was true. Hermione hoped it would be. If they managed to get into the mountain, they would find out what made it magical. If it wasn't the Cup, they would have to find a better way to search in the lake. Although, Hermione had a feeling it was inside the mountain. It made more sense in a way.

Two hours later the Riddle family made their way to the north side. Eye-witnesses had many times claimed to see people disappear on the north side between the big dead tree and the "praying stone". Voldemort and Hermione had discussed the name of the stone, but when they came to the place, they understood why it was called that. The stone was shaped so it looked like a person who was standing on her knees with her hands pressed together. A big dead tree was standing around ten feet away. In front of them was just solid rock.

"Maybe you have to press the right places on the rock to open it?" Hermione suggested, thinking about secret passages in Hogwarts. "Or perhaps a safe word?"

Voldemort was thinking. "This was supposed to be a hiding place where refugees could go to. Perhaps you need to be scared or in need off help?"

Hermione had started to touch the rock. "Or perhaps it opens with some ancient magic?"

Dmitri let out a gurgling sound and Hermione absentmindedly patted his head. She didn't want to leave him alone in the hotel room, not even if he was just an Apparation away. If they could enter the mountain, it wasn't certain they could Disapparate from inside it.

Her hand travelled over the stones. She frowned when she felt unevenness. Standing on her toes, he saw something on the rock. "Take a look at this!"

Voldemort came over to her and looked at the place she had her fingers. "What?"

"It doesn't feel like this unevenness was made by nature. It feels like symbols," she explained and let him touch the surface.

Voldemort nodded slowly. "The symbols remind me of those on the Cup only… Oh, I'm so stupid!"

He placed his backpack on the ground and opened it. Inside it were the Cup of Live safely wrapped inside an old sweatshirt. Hermione saw how his eyes began to glow.

"It's written mirror-wise," Voldemort said in awe. He placed it on the ground and took a paper and a pen from the bag. He wrote down the symbols and taped his wand on the paper. The symbols changed side but Hermione still didn't understand what it meant.

"Clever," she said. "What language is it?"

Voldemort stared at the paper. "It's… Chinese, from the Shang dynasty."

Hermione frowned and sat down as well. "How on earth did that happen?"

Voldemort just shook his head. "If I would have to guess, I would say a tribe from China must have travelled here. Although, I don't understand… the handcraft is not Chinese, it's definitely Scandinavian. Unless two different cultures met… two different mind and knowledge. Ancient China was known for their word magic and the Scandinavians knew about magical handcraft. Of course it would have taken something extraordinary to create these Cups. A mix between two different people… two different types of magic…"

Hermione could see the wonder in Voldemort's eyes. She had to admit it was unbelievable. Although, what else could have created this extraordinary object?

"What does it say?" she asked.

"It can be translated in many ways," Voldemort quickly said as he followed the symbols with his pen. "I would say it meant _for the power of life, the power of unity, the power of…_"

"What?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Love," Voldemort said with a grimace. "The power of love."

Hermione couldn't help but to smile. "It would appear love is the key to your greatest desire."

He scowled at her. "Don't be silly, it can mean other things as well. And it doesn't matter; now we can open this mountain."

"How?" she asked and stood as he stood.

"Power of protection," he said in Chinese and an opening appeared in the mountain.

"Impressive," Hermione admitted.

Voldemort took her hand and together with their son they entered the mountain. Hermione lit her wand as the rock behind them moved into place again. They were standing in a cave which had probably been occupied before. There were some empty wooden buckets and three furs on the floor. Voldemort only took a look around before he pulled her toward an opening on the opposite side of the wall.

The passage was small and Voldemort was careful not to disturb any boggy traps, however, they didn't seem to find any.

"If the Cup was really here, shouldn't there be more traps?" Hermione wondered out loud.

When she saw Voldemort's frown she realised he had thought so as well. "I don't think they had many enemies up here. Maybe they thought them unnecessary. Besides, no one but someone who knows Chinese can enter the cave."

"Yeah, that narrows it down," Hermione said carefully. They had come to another cave and Dmitri had begun to whine. "He probably needs a new nappy."

There was a small platform on the side of the rock so Hermione placed Dmitri there as she changed his nappy with her wand.

"There are three different passages from this cave," Voldemort called to her from the other side of the cave.

Hermione put Dmitri back in his carrying bag. "Which one do you think we should take?"

"I'm not sure, this one smells most magical, but it doesn't have to be the Cup. If shamans knew about this place, they have probably hid some of their magical artifacts here," Voldemort said and stroked his chin.

"Well, do we have a better idea?" Hermione asked. She was not claustrophobic, but she wanted to get this over with. Or did she? Even if Voldemort had said he wouldn't leave her, she couldn't be certain. Hell, she couldn't even be certain the Cups would work! What would she do if he died? She took a deep breath to calm herself down; no need to worry now.

"I guess not. Come on." He placed a red mark at the entrance of the passage before he set off.

They had walked for almost an hour and had had to choose passages five times. Hermione started to understand why no one had bothered with booby traps. The place was a labyrinth!

"Stop," Voldemort finally said when they had entered a new cave. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Hermione asked. Dmitri was heavy and had whined for the last fifteen minutes.

Voldemort sank down on his knees and pressed his ear against the ground. "It sounds like… singing."

Hermione frowned and concentrated. Yes, now when he mentioned it, she thought she could hear something. It wasn't exactly singing, it sounded more like a tune. It was like a calling. She wanted to go there.

"Do you think it's… bad?" she wondered.

Voldemort had opened his backpack again and pulled out the Cup. Hermione could see it glow bluish in the light of their wands. When he placed it on the ground, it began to glow brighter. Then it started to sink down to the ground. Voldemort gasped and took a hold on the handle, but it only made his hand sink down into the stone as well.

"Come here," he said to her. Half his arm had already disappeared.

Not knowing what else to do, Hermione ran over to him and hugged him hard, their son safe between them. In the next moment they had both sunken down into the stone. For a moment Hermione panicked because of the lack of oxygen, but then they fell into another cave. Hermione took a deep breath and she could feel Voldemort do the same. When she opened her eyes she saw that the whole room was illuminated by the strange bluish light.

"Unbelievable," Voldemort gasped.

He let go of her and stood up and Hermione sat up as well. There, at the middle of the cave, was a Cup made of the whitest of stones. It was really a piece of art and Hermione could almost sense how soft it would be against her hand. She stood up as well and followed Voldemort to it. He was still holding the Cup of Life in his hand. He placed it on the side of the other and they seemed to welcome each other.

"Do you love me?" Voldemort asked and stroked the white Cup of Death.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Are you going to do it now? I thought…"

"Why wait? I have everything I need right here," he said and turned to look at her. "Do you love me?"

"Yes, yes, of course I love you!" she exclaimed. "That's why I want you to be more careful! Shouldn't we do an experiment to be sure it really works?"

"Hermione, don't you feel it?" He took her hand and placed it on the Cup. "I'm certain it will work. I had thought about doing an experiment as well, but now… I know it will work. All I need to do is trust that you love me enough to bring me back."

She knew she couldn't prove it to him in words. She placed Dmitri on the floor and took a step closer to him and kissed him as passionate and lovely as she could. He kissed her back. She could feel that he was scared, and yet determined. She even recognised something new, trust. When they finally let go of each others mouth, they just stood there, holding each other.

"I have never trusted anyone before," he mumbled. "If you let me down, I'll come back and haunt you."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I won't."

He nodded, took a deep breath and brought the white Cup to his mouth. When he had swallowed, Hermione felt a deep angst. What had they done? What if it didn't work? How would she able to live without him? How would she be able to find her way out from this mountain without him?

Voldemort let out a small gasp, his face turned white and he started to fall. Hermione let out a small shriek and captured him. His skin was cold. She placed him against the wall and quickly brought the Cup of Life to his lips. She made him swallow some of the liquor and held her breath.

Nothing happened.

"No, no, no," Hermione whispered. She slapped him hard, but he reminded lifeless. His face was so pale, paler than before.

She didn't realise she had began to cry. Some of her tears landed in the Cup of Life as she lifted it again and made some more liquor run down his throat. This time something happened. Voldemort's body began to shake. She backed away and watched in amazed horror as Voldemort twisted and turned on the floor. She didn't know how long it took until he finally stilled. She slowly crawled back to him and placed a hand on his cheek. It was warm now.

"Voldemort?" she asked in a shaky voice.

He opened his eyes. The first thing she noticed was the colour. They weren't red anymore. Instead they were in a dark shade of brown. A warm dark shade of brown so full of life.

"Voldemort?" she asked again. "Do you remember me?"

He nodded slowly and licked his lips. He lifted his hands and watched them as if he had never seen them before. Suddenly, he reached out to her and pulled her close to him. He began to cry. Hermione held him as he cried against her. She shushed him and could feel some tears escape her eyes as well. All tension just disappeared. He was with her again. He would never leave her. She felt more relieved than she had known was possible.

"How do you feel?" she asked when he finally stopped crying.

"I…" His voice was hesitantly. "I feel… like I have just woken up from a bad dream, a very bad dream. I… feel alive… connected… I can feel. I was never able to feel before. I can feel now. I can _feel_!" His sounded very amazed and then he began to cry again.

Hermione closer her eyes and just felt him there next to her. A million thoughts ran through her head at the same time. However, she couldn't hear his thoughts anymore. It was a bit of a relief.

"M-my ring," Voldemort mumbled and sat up with an arm still around her. "What happened to my ring?"

Now Hermione noticed that their wedding-rings had disappeared. "The Contract must have been broken when you… disappeared."

He looked down at his empty ring finger. Then he looked up at her, his eyes burning with a fire she had never seen before. She immediately loved it. He stroked her hair.

"We can't have that," he whispered. "Although, this gives me a chance to do this properly." With that he took both of her hands in his. "Hermione, will you marry me?"

Hermione felt pure happiness run through her. "Nothing would make me happier."

* * *

THE END

Yes, that was the end of it. However, fear not! Soon there will be a one-short sequel called Dmitri's wedding! I just felt like he needed something of his own. If you are lucky, there will also be one-short spin-off about Reya.

I'd like to thank everyone for reading and reviewing. Sometimes those reviews were the only thing I smiled at the whole day. So thank you! Hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I have and if you like my style (errors and all…) keep an eye open; I have new fics on my mind already!

Have a wonderful day!


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